


falling into step

by mew_tsubaki



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Focus on Friendship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-09-22 19:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 50,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9622907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/mew_tsubaki
Summary: Watari, responsible and content and comfortable in all his current roles, doesn't find his third and final year of high school lacking. But a rekindled friendship shows him that it's still possible to miss the good things around you even when you're not looking for them. *A love story where the friendship is just as important as the romance; eventual Matsuwata.





	1. A Manager's Responsibilities

**Author's Note:**

> The Haikyuu! characters belong to Furudate Haruichi-sensei, not to me. mew here, to supply you with a rarepair you didn't know you needed. -w- Read, review, and enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watari, Yahaba, and balance.

"So the new jerseys should arrive at the start of next week. The first years are excited, though I heard talk from some of them about their numbers…" Watari shook his head and closed his notebook, withholding an exasperated sigh. "That might be something we'll have to deal with. It's ridiculous, though, fighting over jersey numbers. We didn't do that, Kindaichi and Kunimi and the others didn't do that—I'm not sure I could even picture Oikawa-san and them doing that when _they_ were first years."

Yahaba shrugged and tried to give him a sympathetic smile while he took his friend's notebook and reviewed his comments during their lunchbreak in Watari's homeroom. "Yeah, you're right… Kindaichi's so well-behaved and Kunimi doesn't care about numbers so long as he gets to play. But Oikawa-san?" The new captain of Aoba Johsai's volleyball club raised his eyebrows when he glanced at Watari. "I get the feeling the others knew he was captain material from the beginning. And there was no doubt in his mind that Iwaizumi-san was his ace."

Watari didn't add anything to Yahaba's statement, though he agreed. Their senpai were still fresh on their minds, even though the next school year—Watari's and Yahaba's third and last—was already a month old and the former seniors were graduated and, for the most part, nowhere to be seen. Watari figured that was for the best. Most of them had gone away to university or were pursuing work opportunities. It didn't make sense for them to stick around their high school sports club. Not to mention the new third years had enough on their plates…

"Oh, is this what you were thinking of for flyers?" Yahaba asked, drawing Watari from his thoughts. He passed Watari's notebook back to him with the book opened up to a page covered in multi-colored ink and possibly too much information.

"Ah…yeah… It's crowded, isn't it?" The libero laughed halfheartedly at himself and took out his pencil pouch, turning to a fresh page.

"Kind of. But it's important the person know what they're getting into, if they want to be our manager."

"That's what I thought, too."

Yahaba put his elbow on Watari's desk and cupped his cheek in his palm while he debated Watari's rough draft. "Or maybe we should give up on the idea…"

"No." Watari shook his head and locked eyes with his friend. "Our plates are full enough as they are, Yahaba. The club hasn't had a manager in years, but that _has_ to change."

"…it would be nice, having a pretty girl around, like one of Karasuno's managers," Yahaba remarked after an odd beat. There was a grin playing with the edges of his lips.

"A female or male manager—it doesn't matter, so long as none of us ends up with three jobs, between club and studies and managing."

"But you're doing great so far, Mr. Manager," Yahaba lightly teased him, and he couldn't keep the laughter entirely from his voice.

Watari rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively. "I'm only supposed to be vice-captain, not the manager, as well."

Yahaba sat up and opened his mouth to say something in reply, but something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he turned to the classroom door. "Oi! Kyoutani! Wear your uniform properly or I'll get scolded on your behalf again!" He even snarled and stood up, leaving to chase after their ace.

"…and vice-captain does not equal babysitter, either," Watari added under his breath to himself as his eyes followed the commotion out of the classroom. He returned his attention to the flyer draft afterwards.

Frankly, for all he corrected Yahaba about exactly what his duties were to the volleyball club, and he knew just how busy he was and how much busier he was going to get as the school year flew by, Watari actually didn't mind things right now. Whether coordinating with Irihata-sensei and Mizoguchi-san about practice games and collecting everyone's stats, or continuing to train up Okino as their other libero, or advising the team alongside Yahaba, or keeping Yahaba and Kyoutani from breaking into fisticuffs every other day…Watari actually felt that he could handle this much. Sure, it meant sometimes that getting homework done felt like a last-minute cramming session, but Watari had good study habits and kept flashcards on him all the time, so those academics of which he'd reminded Yahaba weren't quite as big a burden on his shoulders as he might've implied them to be.

He paused and frowned at the second draft he'd made and crossed out three lines of info. Then again, maybe that did the trick. It seemed a lot more readable now and, if he pulled off a little magic with that photo-editing program on his computer, it might be what they needed.

"Ah, Watari."

The libero picked his head up and saw his teammate and fellow third year, Hoshimura, leaning against the doorjamb. Hoshimura was pointing his index fingers to the left.

"Yahaba just enlisted Ueno's help to catch Kyoutani…you might want to take care of that…"

Watari sighed and hopped up from his desk, knowing precisely how the remaining minutes of lunch would end, as they'd been ending the same way for the past month.

He had his plate full, all right. So he could handle it.

…right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins. I've had this idea for a little while now, and I love slow builds a lot, and I love Matsuwata a LOT, so why not start this now? :D Time to give Watari some other things to think about… -w- And, yes, names you don't recognize are OCs of mine, which I've used before in some of my other fics; I'm also hoping to have the chance to flesh them out a bit, so yay. :] Ahh, Watacchi, you deserve some love…! Cover art by me, btw, and I'm ECSTATIC that this begins publication on 2/7—Matsuwata Day~!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review! See you in ch2~!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki :3


	2. Cast a Line, They Will Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watari's year of tranquility is disrupted by one slip of paper, and his friends don't let him forget it.

About a week passed after Watari finished the flyer, made adjustments and copies, and posted them around the school. The only drawback was that the opening club festival had long since passed, so the volleyball club couldn't get any publicity there. Still, the flyers got around, and people—mainly girls—began dropping by practice or by Class 3-6 to talk about the manager's position with Watari.

Hoshimura joined him after day duty so they could head to afternoon practice together, and he whistled appreciatively when the libero got an application from yet another girl who passed by them in the halls. "Damn, Watari. Anyone slipped their number to you yet?"

Watari gave the dark-haired teen a look as he tucked the application into his bag and they left the main school building for the clubhouse. "No. And why should they? This is just for becoming manager."

"Oh, for crying out loud…" Hoshimura heaved an overly dramatic sigh, and he did so again when they entered the clubroom. Ueno, of course, asked what the bother was, which caught some of the others' attention, too. But Watari ignored them and their questions and was the first one to the gym as a result.

Mizoguchi-san flagged him over as the first years arrived to set equipment up. "Ah, Watari." He held up a collection of papers with a grin. "I collected these from the staffroom just today. We've got a lot of people interested in becoming manager."

"Really?" Watari unfolded the application from before, which he'd tucked into his jacket pocket after changing. "I've got another, too. What does that bring us up to?"

The blond coach flipped through the stack after taking the latest paper. "Hmm… Nine, actually. Seven girls, two boys. Mostly first years. Some are even from Kunimi's class, though, Chiba and Sanada's, and Ishii's, too, so I wonder how well our guys know them."

"Do you want us to make a decision by the start of next week?" the libero asked as the other athletes arrived. Some of the other first years got to setting up without even asking, and Watari internally breathed a sigh of relief at that.

"I don't mind when, and neither does Irihata-sensei, so talk it over with Yahaba and figure things out for yourselves. We trust you guys," Mizoguchi added after a pause, as if assuring Watari that the faculty wasn't merely shoving it off on them.

It didn't take long to set things up for practice, since Seijou had a good-sized club, even if only a handful were regulars and filled out the bench during games. Yahaba gave some instructions regarding warm-ups and turned to Watari—likely to ask him to focus on working with Okino today, as the liberoes were doing specialized practice every few days—when something caught his eye again. But it wasn't Kyoutani at the door this time.

"Ah, Watari," the captain said with a small smirk, "I think someone's here for you."

Hoshimura and Ueno, who were nearby, turned their heads, too, and saw what Watari saw: a female student scuffing her toes right outside the gym door. She took a rumpled flyer from her blazer pocket and quickly scanned the gym, ducking her head when she accidentally made eye contact with Watari.

"The classical type—nice," Hoshimura remarked appreciatively as the girl pushed some of her straight black hair back behind her ear.

Ueno clapped the libero on the shoulder and gave Watari a thumb's up. "Go for it," he deadpanned.

Watari, meanwhile, heaved a sigh and began to wonder if this was how Iwaizumi had felt, herding cats. He shrugged Ueno off and shook his head at them before jogging over to the girl. He smiled gently at her. "Ah, hi. Were you interested in becoming the club manager?"

Her eyes widened when he spoke to her, but her lips were pressed so tightly together that no sound came out. A squeak emerged from the back of her throat, and she hastily pushed the flyer towards him.

"Uh, thanks… I'm Watari, by the way," he said, although he wondered if she had that much figured out if she was reacting to him this way—which was, in and of itself, a strange thought, at least to him. "Sorry I can't chat—practice." He smiled again and took the flyer from her, waiting until she loosened her grip from the bottom corner of the paper. Then he turned around and jogged over to Mizoguchi-san, passing the flyer to him.

Mizoguchi-san took it and glanced at it, but he stopped Watari as the third year stepped away. "Uh, Watari…"

"Yes?"

The assistant coach bit his lower lip to keep from laughing, but he was smiling. He passed something to the vice-captain. "I, uh, think _this_ was meant for _you_."

Watari glanced at the slip of paper and did a double-take when he realized it was something torn out of a notebook and scrawled on.

It was not part of the girl's application to be manager. It was her name, email address, and phone number.

The libero felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he scurried over to his things and hid the info in his jacket pocket before his fellow third years saw. Goddamn Hoshimura for saying this kind of thing would happen…!

* * *

Watari tried to put it out of his mind for the rest of practice, though he had to apologize to Okino the few times when he spaced out in the middle of talking with his fellow libero.

Still, walking home and mulling it over that weekend, it didn't seem _real_. Him. Watari Shinji. With a girl's number? He knew he wasn't disliked by anyone; he tended to get along well with everyone, and he did so pretty easily. But he'd never gone looking for a girlfriend. Not in middle school, and not in high school. Everything else—school, volleyball, family, even his own few hobbies—simply had been top priority.

He debated asking his parents for some advice, but he just as quickly dismissed the thought. His parents were an unusual case of a flipped switch, all classmates without beings friends to suddenly his mother asking his dad out and… Well, as they say, the rest was history. Watari wasn't even sure his parents had dated anyone before meeting in their university days.

With the weekend gone without a solution, Watari chose what he thought was the best path for now, and he tucked the girl's info into his top desk drawer in his room at home, safe and undisturbed and half hidden by the small stack of sticky notes that lay within. There. With it out of sight, it would also be out of mind.

…not.

One of the good things about Yahaba was that nothing ever really escaped his sight, so that helped to make him a really great captain. Ueno even joked that Yahaba had eyes in the back of his head. However, that was also one quality Watari wished his friend could do without come Monday afternoon.

"So. What's her name?" Yahaba asked more comfortably than Watari would've liked.

Kyoutani gave Yahaba a clueless look while Hoshimura and Ueno exchanged an excited glance and Watari regretted eating lunch up on the roof with the lot of them. For a second, Watari debated playing dumb, but he knew that wasn't going to fly. "Morioka," he replied. But he kept his eyes on his bento.

"And?"

"And what?"

Yahaba and Hoshimura half sighed, half growled at him, forcing his attention on them. "You know damn well what," Yahaba retorted, clearly taking the words out of Hoshimura's mouth as the other boy nodded. "That was her number Mizoguchi-san passed you, right? So? Have you texted her?"

"What? No, I haven't! Why should I text a complete stranger?"

Yahaba rolled his eyes, so Hoshimura cut in. "Because that's one of the few ways to stop _being_ complete strangers, Watari." He snorted as if he were an expert in all things romance. "You go from strangers to friends to something more—and, if that ends, you at least have a catalogue of people from whom you can borrow notes and homework." He ended his spiel by producing his own phone and showing the other four the heinous number of entries in his phonebook.

Ueno gave Hoshimura a look. "We don't want him turning into _you_. One of you is bad enough—hold on. Is that a guy's name? Ah, that one, too!" he exclaimed just as Hoshimura took his phone out of reach.

"I'll never tell~"

Yahaba and Watari sighed at them, but then Yahaba faced his friend again, light brown eyes fully focused on him. "Actually, that's part of the equation."

Watari gave him a funny look. "What is?"

"You, Watari. So, what is it? Girls? Boys?" Beside him, Kyoutani reddened and choked on the large bite of his sandwich he'd taken the moment before.

The shaven-haired boy scratched his left eyebrow and returned his eyes to his bento. "Honestly…I don't know."

He could feel three sets of eyes trained on him, with the fourth set no doubt doing anything _but_ look at him. "You don't know," Yahaba confirmed.

Watari groaned. "I just—I've never given it much thought, y'know?"

"Never given it— Well, did you think Mori was cute?"

"Morioka? I guess…"

"What about any of us?"

Watari lifted his head and gave him a dry look. "Come again?"

But Yahaba was nonchalant as he waved an arm at the rest. "Us. Have you ever thought any of us were attractive?"

Oh, for crying out loud…! Kyoutani, at least, had the decency to look away, and he scooched an inch away from Yahaba, too.

But the other three? Yahaba stared at him openly, there was mirth in Hoshimura's slightly sloping blue–gray eyes, and Ueno was grinning wolfishly as if waiting to have his good looks praised.

Watari frowned at them. These guys—they were his friends. Objectively, yeah, he could see they were good-looking. Ueno was kind of plain like Kyoutani, with a square jaw and small eyes, although his ready-made smile was always a nice sight, and his spiky blond hair looked cool. Hoshimura was pretty kind of like Yahaba, although his dark hair was a little on the long side, coming down almost to hide his ears. Still, Watari knew all of them, and that partly made up how he saw them, as well.

Even Yahaba. Pretty and friendly though he was, Yahaba… Watari couldn't see his friend as being his type. Not with how boisterous he knew the guy to be during overnight trips or staying over at his house. Not with how Yahaba let himself get carried away when he and Kyoutani had one of those days when they'd simply go at each other. And _certainly_ not with how Yahaba was almost always guaranteed to return Watari's notes out of order when he borrowed them. At that thought, Watari grumbled to himself.

"No," he finally answered, and he knew it to be the truth, though he was surprised when Yahaba and Hoshimura pouted at the response.

"You're no fun. People _like_ being told they're attractive," Hoshimura whined, and he leaned dramatically against Yahaba's arm.

Oops. Watari sometimes forgot he had his mother's tendency to be unknowingly blunt. He frowned and backpedaled. "Sorry. What I mean is—"

But Yahaba shook his head as the bell rang, ending lunch. "It's fine, Watari. I figure, with you, you'll probably know it when it happens for you."

Wow. Yahaba…really could say some great things sometimes. How heartening to hear that from his friend.

"Well, you probably won't notice it right away, considering your obliviousness, but…y'know," the captain added.

Ah. Never mind. Watari knew then that he wasn't herding cats with the new make-up of the club. He was running a kindergarten full of kids who said whatever was on their minds. And Watari still had a full year of this ahead of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Watacchi, *lol*. The kid needs a break…which he will get, in the next chapter. ;3 That headcanon about Watari's parents is something I figured out when writing "During the rainy season…" and it's something I liked, so I kept it. And these other third years…! XD I actually love Ueno and want to smack Hoshimura half the time, but y'know. OC woes, *lol*.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, and please leave a review while you await ch3!
> 
> -mew! :3


	3. A Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return of a certain person, almost plucked straight from Watari's thoughts.

Watari let the subject drop after Yahaba and the rest had bugged him that Monday. Rather, _they'd_ let the subject drop after Watari had been so clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation.

Besides, as May trotted along at a decent pace and Miyagi teams began preparing for the Interhigh prelims, Watari's mind was solely on school and club. As had become the norm, Aoba Johsai had been seeded once again, but Irihata-sensei constantly reminded them that that was not luck but through their own efforts. "And," he reminded them at the end of practice halfway through the month, "if you keep up such efforts, you will be rewarded in the end." There was, of course, that gleam in his eye, the one he'd had the past two years, his hope to beat Shiratorizawa at the Interhigh glinting brightly in his gaze as Yahaba said a few things to end the day.

Really, though, Watari, like Yahaba, Kyoutani, Kunimi, and Kindaichi, was looking forward to playing Karasuno again. Yes, they'd beaten the crows last summer, but that defeat from last fall still stung.

In the clubroom, Watari shut his locker a little harder than necessary, but he ignored the curious looks of the others as he left and took several deep breaths, pacing himself down the stairs. He tried to shake the memories of last fall as he crossed the courtyard and headed for the school gate, and he let his mind wander a little as he hooked a left and continued down the street, heading home.

It was one thing for Karasuno to weigh on his mind still, as well as on the others'. But a small part of him wondered if it weighed on the alumni's minds, too, more so because they weren't around anymore and so didn't have the chance to get their revenge.

He chuckled to himself at the word choice. "Revenge" definitely sounded like something Oikawa would say, maybe Yuda, too. The other five probably wouldn't think the same way, although the feeling likely would be similar. With them, it would show on their faces.

Watari slowed to a halt at a stoplight and waited for the crossing sign to change, but he frowned as his mind wandered more than he wished. The faces of the senpai… It had almost been a relief, seeing Yahaba and Kyoutani with tears in their eyes. But seeing Iwaizumi so angrily holding it in, Hanamaki losing the fight and finally crying, and Matsukawa looking as though he had the worst case of the sniffles… Even the memory was heartbreaking.

The sign changed, and the libero noticed only when the hustle and bustle around him snapped him out of his reveries. He slipped through the foot traffic and passed by the shops on the street, looking forward to heading home and doing something else—maybe read a book or watch a DVD. Anything to get his mind off the seniors.

But that would be easier said than done, for, shortly before Watari reached the second crossing on his route home, he spotted one of those seniors standing behind an open truck in front of the hardware store. And that senpai, Matsukawa, was crying.

* * *

The libero didn't even think before hurrying over to him. "Matsukawa-san! Are you all right?!"

Matsukawa looked no different than he had months ago. His hair and posture were the same, although it was strange seeing him in gray laborer attire. But, worse, his face was crumpled, his cheeks and eyes were red, and tears were streaming down his face. He turned his head slowly at Watari's exclamation, saw who it was, and pointed a cloth-gloved finger downwards.

Watari followed the motion with his eyes and saw a box lying on Matsukawa's foot. He tossed his duffle bag into the open back of the truck and squatted down to move the box. But holy _hell_ , the thing weighed a ton! No wonder Matsukawa hurt. The best Watari could do was to push and tilt it on one of its edges so that Matsukawa could remove his foot out from under it. Freed, Matsukawa exhaled and leaned against the step above the truck's bumper before finally heaving himself up and settling down on the cargo floor.

He nodded his thanks to Watari after swiping at his eyes and taking a few more breaths.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Watari asked doubtfully. He dug into the smaller zipped pouch on his bag and found his handkerchief, which he passed to the other male.

Matsukawa nodded. "It _just_ happened." He wiped his eyes and cheeks, but he saw the dirt he'd transferred from his gloves to the cloth. With a grateful smile and raised eyebrows, he pocketed the item, obviously promising to wash it and return it another time.

But Watari shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I didn't think I'd see you around here." To be frank, he hadn't thought he'd see _any_ of them after graduation, though he knew that to be an exaggeration, since they still had family here.

Matsukawa nodded again and removed his gloves and then his boot and sock. "Keeping a low profile," he said with a light chuckle in his voice. He poked and prodded his foot and toes, but he didn't wince, though he hissed slightly instead. Aside from looking a bit red, his foot was fine, so he dressed it again.

Watari watched him, but his heart was still beating a bit fast from the minor emergency. Not to mention how odd it was, going from thinking of a crying Matsukawa to seeing it in person so suddenly… He laughed at himself, and he waved Matsukawa off when the other boy looked at him curiously. "Sorry, sorry… I was just thinking of you. All of you," he added after an odd beat.

Matsukawa smiled knowingly. "It's important to remember your dead."

Watari really couldn't withhold his laughter. "That's terrible, Matsukawa-san…!" But that sense of humor _was_ very Matsukawa.

The black-haired boy shook his head. "We're fine, though. Honest. Shido's local, y'know, working and commuting to a nearby college, getting an early start." He ran a hand through his hair and took another breath, his voice sounding calm at last when he next spoke. "Sawauchi moved earlier this week, and Yuda's going at the end of the month. Same school in the fall."

That wasn't very surprising, although Watari was a little stunned to hear that Shido hadn't gone with them. "The others?"

Matsukawa glanced at him. His usual sly grin toyed with his lips before officially emerging. "Oikawa and Iwaizumi are still apartment-hunting."

The mental image made Watari grin, too. "I'm betting Oikawa-san's being far too picky for Iwaizumi-san's tastes."

"Nah. Just the opposite."

Watari blinked. Huh. So they could still surprise him, even now. "And Hanamaki-san?"

Matsukawa glanced at his watch. "Considering the time of day…" He pursed his lips and looked at Watari, his expression imperceptible. It made Watari wonder if he were considering sharing something he ought not to share.

So Watari changed the subject and glanced inside the truck, where there were several dozen other boxes. "And you're working."

"For now." Matsukawa glanced at his watch again and got to his feet on the pavement, stuffing his gloves in his pocket. He eyed Watari, those thick eyebrows raised again.

"Oh! Sorry." Watari grabbed his bag so Matsukawa could bring the door down and latch it. He gestured to the earlier offender, however, which still lay on the ground. "But what about that one?"

Matsukawa rolled his shoulders. "It's a delivery for here, so I'll just go ask for one of their manual lifts."

"Why don't I just give you a hand?"

The taller boy blinked twice, as if it hadn't occurred to him to ask. "Ah…it's quite heavy, though…"

Watari had positioned his bag's strap across his chest already, and he now squatted down with freed hands. "Yes, but it probably can't fall on both our feet."

Matsukawa gave him a wry smile, and Watari could sense him giving in then. So Matsukawa agreed to let Watari help, the customer received the delivery, and Watari parted with Matsukawa outside back by the truck.

Matsukawa nodded his thanks again, and Watari raised his hand to wave goodbye…but something in him itched, parting from a familiar face so simply this way. Maybe it was the need for the change of scenery that egged him on. Maybe it was the relief that had come over him after hearing how everyone was doing. So Watari added, "See you around!"

The other boy's eyes widened in surprise, but he flashed Watari a peace sign and a smile that was more friendly than was impish. So Watari knew he'd said the right thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? I love slow builds. And minor charries. And I wish we knew more about Yuda, Shido, and Sawauchi, but I'll just have to indulge in my headcanons for now.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review! See you in ch4~!
> 
> -mew! -w-


	4. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By chance, Watari and Matsukawa cross paths again…and again.

"Hold on. You're not allowed to go straight home," Hoshimura insisted to Watari two days later after practice and before the libero even had the chance to exit the gym. To emphasize his point, the middle blocker clamped his hand down on Watari's right shoulder and kept him in place in front of him.

"Why not?" Watari asked. He looked to Yahaba for help, but their captain merely whistled and walked away behind Hoshimura, heading in Irihata-sensei and Mizoguchi-san's direction. Ueno looked far too happy on Hoshimura's left, and Kyoutani lingered around the edges, curious.

"Because there's a mixer tonight. A mixer!" the dark-haired blocker exclaimed, grabbing Watari's attention once more.

Hell. Watari rolled his eyes. "I'm not interested."

"You're not allowed not to be interested!"

"I've got other things to do, though…?"

Only the ends of Hoshimura's mouth curved up, giving him a truly untrustworthy look. "Studying doesn't count. And you still haven't picked a manager with Yahaba, so clearly that's not on your mind either. So what else is there?"

Honestly, nothing. But Watari tried to think of _something_. Unfortunately, he wasn't a very good liar, and he was crap at coming up with fibs on his feet. So he frowned.

"There. So come with us. Numajiri from Johzenji arranged most of it—"

"What? Why Johzenji?"

"Because the guy's a ladies' man like me and it never hurts to have some added charm. So he and a few friends—boys and girls alike—will join us and it'll be fun."

By this point, Kyoutani had lost interest and walked away to join Yahaba, and something occurred to Watari. He looked between Hoshimura and Ueno. "How come Kyoutani and Yahaba aren't getting hounded?" Though, even as he asked, he figured about Kyoutani.

"Kyoutani would ruin things," Ueno said flatly. Of course. If ever there were the chance _not_ to be around Kyoutani more than necessary, Ueno took it.

"And Yahaba gets a pass," Hoshimura added simply.

Okay, _that_ was unexpected. "Why?" Watari pushed.

"…call it a captain's pass," the dark-haired teen offered, letting Watari go. At last!

"Well, I still find issues with your reasoning, so count me out. Consider taking some of the second years and first years instead!" he threw back over his shoulder as he left.

Hoshimura and Ueno howled in response, more so when Kawasumi, the team's second year ace, finally dropped in on the conversation. Actually, Kawasumi would be a _much_ better choice, since the guy went through girlfriends constantly and showed no signs of stopping. Not to mention he was the type who'd _want_ to go to a mixer.

But, honestly… The Interhigh prelims were in less than two weeks, and Watari wanted to think about that instead. There were also finals to concentrate on, as well, as those would happen not long after. Then it'd be summer break…then Spring High prelims…then winter break…the Spring High, if they pulled it off, winning the Miyagi representative playoffs in October…graduation…and then… Then what?

Watari, lost in his thoughts, had reached the first crossing on his way home without realizing it, and he frowned at himself. It wasn't wise to walk around without being aware of one's surroundings. _Especially_ right before the tournament season.

He picked his head up, watching the traffic light, his view of it obscured only when two large trucks drove by. The first, he ignored. But the driver in the second caught his attention. It was Matsukawa.

The light changed, and Watari let the throng of people pull him along, and he walked in the direction of his house…but, really, his feet carried him towards the hardware store just as Matsukawa hopped out of the driver's side and walked around back to unlatch the back door. Matsukawa didn't notice him initially, but he spied him when Watari waved. He tipped his head in response.

"Good evening," Watari said brightly, feeling relieved to see a different familiar face. He glanced inside the back at the fortress of cardboard. "Deliveries again?"

Matsukawa shrugged and yanked himself swiftly into the back. He pushed two boxes around on the floor with his foot. "Yep."

"Nothing too heavy this time, I hope."

The black-haired boy grinned and hopped out. "Nope. But I had a rough night, so I'm moving at my own pace today."

Watari furrowed his brow. "Rough night?"

"Hanamaki drank me under the table."

The libero gasped. "Oh."

Matsukawa eyed him. "…I'm joking. Watari, I'm barely a month older than you. I still can't drink, and neither can Hanamaki."

"Oh. Oh, right…" Oops. Watari felt a little stupid.

"It's fine." Matsukawa smiled and reached for something in the breast pocket of his worker's suit. "Want one?"

"A cigarette?!"

But, no, it was a broken stick of Pocky. Matsukawa turned his head to hide his snicker, but his shoulders were shaking so hard with silent laughter.

Okay, _now_ Watari felt really stupid, but at least he knew it was Matsukawa's fault for playing with him. "Matsukawa-san…!" he grumbled with a little glare. Sweets-loving Matsukawa and Hanamaki, he could handle. Vice-loving Matsukawa and Hanamaki? He wasn't sure.

Matsukawa was trying—and failing—not to smile, but he passed Watari some of the chocolate-covered biscuit anyway. "I didn't take you for the gullible type," he remarked between bites.

Watari ate what was offered and refused more. "Not _gullible_ , just…" He frowned. He didn't want to sound whiny or nostalgic…but he knew there were things he didn't know about his former senpai. How was he to have known Matsukawa was joking right away? Yes, Matsukawa and Hanamaki were the prank-pulling type, but still.

"It's fine. I don't think I could do those things anyway."

"Hmm?" Watari lifted his eyes from the pavement and watched Matsukawa's profile as the taller male stacked the boxes to pull them out.

"My family. They run the apothecary store three blocks over. Practically doctors, y'know." Matsukawa pulled the boxes into his arms, and he glanced between Watari and the truck. "…"

"It's fine. I'll watch the truck. You can go inside."

Matsukawa turned without a word, but he was back in under a minute. "Thanks," he said, and he climbed into the back once more, looking things over.

Watari frowned at his back, wondering how to continue their conversation. Then again, now probably wasn't the best time. "Sorry to bother you when you're busy," he stated.

Those dark eyes returned to rest on his face. "Hmm? You're not a bother, and I'm not particularly busy." He patted the tops of two open boxes and hopped out again, but he latched the door this time. Then he turned around and leaned his back against the vehicle and kept his eyes on the libero.

"But you're obviously working," Watari pointed out.

Matsukawa shrugged again. "I told you, I'm taking it easy. And I've only got one other delivery tonight anyway." His eyes darted to Watari's bag and sweats.

"Ah. I'm just heading home like usual." As he said it, a part of Watari felt as though that was such a lame thing to say… In a way, Watari could understand how Hoshimura and them could get caught up in parties and the like. Such things at least made for good stories.

Matsukawa nodded—he really preferred gestures where words could be sacrificed, Watari noted. "Do you want a ride?"

"Oh! No, I don't need—"

The older boy raised his eyebrows and grinned gently. "Sure, you don't _need_ one. That's not what I'm asking, though. Would you like one?"

Watari felt the weight of his phone in his pocket, but it wasn't as though the device were buzzing with any urgent text for him to be home that minute. Plus, after the second crossing on his route, Watari's house was only a ten-minute walk. A drive would go by in the blink of an eye. But… Matsukawa was being kind, and Watari had never turned down a senpai's kindness before. Well, except for those times on April First when Hanamaki went around to all the kouhai offering a "really tasty" sweet and salty snack.

Matsukawa started to turn away, but it wasn't in a way that made Watari think he was leaving without him. His body language definitely said, "So, you coming or not?"

So he went.

Matsukawa was a decent driver, more responsible than Watari imagined. He seemed to keep to the speed limit quite steadfastly, it was almost amusing. And he didn't mind talking while driving, though he spoke up mostly at stop signs. "So it's summer. Practice not running as late as it used to?"

Watari leaned his elbow on the passenger's door handle and cupped his cheek in his palm. "No, I think tonight's a fluke. That, or—" He stopped short.

Matsukawa cocked his head at him.

"Uh, well…" Watari scratched his cheek nervously. "It's just…Hoshimura's dumb idea. I can almost see him wearing Mizoguchi-san down until the sensei caved and didn't drag practice out."

"What idea?"

"…a mixer."

Matsukawa surprised him yet again, this time by laughing and doing so quite loudly. "Oh, for crying out loud…! Shyeah, I can't picture you there. Or. Oh, gods." He gave Watari a dumbfounded look. "Hoshimura didn't invite _Kyoutani_ , did he?"

"No, Ueno made sure of that, I think." Watari grinned broadly, too. "Funny how Kyoutani gives most people the same impression, yeah?"

The older boy nodded. He took a right where Watari motioned, but then they were only two streets away from Watari's house.

Knowing that, it was hard to keep his grin from dissolving, but he made sure to plaster it back on the next time Matsukawa peeked at him. It was only the second time he'd bumped into Matsukawa, but it was rather fun, having his mind briefly taken off other considerations.

The truck pulled up to the small, split-level house with the Watari nameplate out front, and Matsukawa shifted into park. He eyed the home appreciatively. "Nice place."

"Eh, it's a home like any other." Watari unbuckled and slipped his duffle's strap over his head. "Although I think my parents might be surprised to see me home so soon." With his hand on the door handle, he added, "Thanks, Matsukawa-san. I appreciate it."

Matsukawa simply smiled in return and gave a little parting wave as the libero climbed out. As soon as Watari cleared the front of the vehicle, though, and was passing through the gate, the truck pulled away.

"I'm home," he called inside as he kicked his shoes off.

"Ah, no need to be so loud, I'm right here," his mother said, turning the corner from the hall which led to the kitchen. She furrowed her brow. "You're home early, Shinji."

He put his duffle on the floor and switched to his slippers. "Yeah, I know. A friend gave me a ride." He kissed her cheek.

And yet she seemed disgruntled.

"What?"

"Do we know this friend?"

"It was one of my volleyball club senpai."

"Oh." His mother paused. "Well, that was nice of him, I suppose."

He sighed. "You suppose…?"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Then you tell me. What else is a mother supposed to think when her son gets a ride from a friend but comes home wearing such a frown?" She shook her head, her dark brown hair swishing slightly around her shoulders as she reached up and patted his cheek twice. "Hurry up and bathe. I'd like your help in the kitchen, and you can study after supper."

Watari nodded, but her words didn't exactly reach him. Even once he reached his room upstairs, he was still having a hard time processing what she'd said. Because, if he'd been frowning, he hadn't realized it at all.

* * *

The following evening, after practice, Watari's journey home was the normal version: on foot and alone. He wasn't entirely surprised. Bumping into Matsukawa had happened only twice, so there wasn't enough evidence to prove a pattern, and it wasn't as if Watari were searching for him regardless.

The evening after _that_ was also the same, which _was_ a bit of a surprise. If Matsukawa were working a schedule, Watari figured maybe his chances of bumping into him were better every other day or so. Then again, it wasn't as if they'd discussed Matsukawa's schedule or lack thereof. So Sunday came, with the Interhigh prelims less than a week away, and Watari tucked his Matsukawa-related thoughts into a corner of his mind as he met Yahaba that afternoon in the heart of town so they could collect study materials from the specialty bookstore.

"Honestly, _I'm_ beginning to feel more like a manager and less like a captain, looking after Kyoutani," Yahaba grumbled as they got off the bus and headed up the street towards their destination. "Why is it _my_ responsibility to ensure that idiot passes his exams?!"

"Because he just barely pulled through finals last year," Watari reminded him. He gave Yahaba an empathetic smile, although he wished this were one of their regular, fun excursions. Even though they were in jeans and t-shirts right now, somehow Watari felt as though this was just an extension of practice, since things had circled back around to the team. Not that Watari wasn't nuts about volleyball, but so far this school year he and Yahaba hadn't had the time to relax as normal friends do.

"I swear, though, if I don't find this stupid study guide for that airheaded ace, I'm going to scream. I am _not_ spending my summer break tutoring him or holding his hand through summer classes or extra summer homework."

"So if it's the normal summer homework load, that's fine?"

Yahaba's shoulders sank, and he grimaced at Watari, who tried not to laugh. "Watari…you get away with so much because you say such things with a nice smile."

This time, the libero _did_ laugh. This was Yahaba's way of calling him an asshole without saying it outright, which was forever amusing to him. "Still, it wouldn't be _horrible_ , if we all got together to do the homework," Watari stated, returning to their previous subject. "I mean, if we invite Hoshimura and Ueno and drop in on Kyoutani, maybe things could be productive. We don't kill each other at practice or during lunch, and Kyoutani's almost docile when his younger siblings are around. Maybe that's the secret formula."

Watari thought he'd come up with the best plan…so why did Yahaba look so forlorn? "…still _not_ how I want to spend my summer…," he mumbled under his breath.

Watari furrowed his brow. Was he missing something? "Yahaba?"

Yahaba blinked and snapped his head up, as if remembering he had an audience. "Ah! It's nothing, nothing." He turned his head, emphatically looking both ways before they crossed the street and reached the bookstore. But, even from behind with a three-quarter view of him, Watari noted that Yahaba's cheeks were flushed more than one would expect of the summertime.

Inside the store, Yahaba and Watari split up, but Watari didn't mind. He went for the stationery while Yahaba tracked down Kyoutani's study guide, and the libero figured Yahaba wanted a minute to collect whatever jumbled thoughts were tumbling around in that captain's head of his. Although, if Yahaba were still out of sorts before they went home, Watari would say something. The last thing the team needed was their captain not to have his head in the game.

The shaven-haired boy picked out a set of pastel index cards which would be easy on his eyes when memorizing on his way to and from school and a packet of bold-colored see-through sticky notes since some had fallen out of his notes the last time Yahaba had borrowed them. He met Yahaba at the register, and it was as if no mood swing had occurred.

Watari peeked at the three things Yahaba had selected. "Wow… Those are all easy-reader titles." He smiled. "You say you and Kyoutani don't get along, but I think you guys like each other in your own ways."

"Do not," Yahaba hotly retorted, but he bought all three items anyway. Outside the store, Yahaba checked the time on his phone. "Ah, I kinda wanna binge on junk food…"

"That's a bad idea."

"Considering I'll burn it off this last week that ends with the prelims, with Irihata-sensei working us to death before our day of rest?" The taller boy snorted. "Not as bad as you'd think, Watari."

Okay, so maybe Yahaba had a point.

"Ah!"

"What is it?"

Yahaba was looking at his phone again, but this time he was smiling. He crammed his phone into his back pocket quickly and gave Watari an apologetic look. "Um, nothing. Well, something. Change of plans. I've somewhere to be… Do you mind? I'll make it up to you, promise."

Watari waved him off, though. He wasn't one for having his friends owe him, though he kind of liked that Yahaba always offered. "Don't worry about it. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

Yahaba beamed at him and waved as he jogged off, looking like an elementary schooler hurrying to his favorite amusement park. At the corner, he nearly crashed into an old woman in his delirium, but he quickly bowed in apology and then was out of sight.

Meanwhile, Watari also checked the time on his phone and weighed his options. He didn't have anything else to buy and he wasn't hungry yet, but he also didn't want to go home so soon. Nevertheless, he texted his mother to see if she needed him to pick up anything while he was still out.

He'd just hit "send" when something bluntly pointed jabbed him in the back of his calf. Watari looked down and saw a dog's snout worming its way between his legs, but it was difficult to feel annoyed when the rest of the dog followed the snout, and a small bull terrier with an off-white coat stared up at him.

"Oi, stop that."

The familiar voice behind him straightened Watari up, and he looked over his shoulder to find Matsukawa holding on to the bull terrier's leash—as well as the leashes for a distracted, golden shiba inu and a quivering, longhaired dachshund. The black-haired male wasn't in his usual gray jumpsuit, but Watari scolded himself for being dumb. Of course Matsukawa would be in a t-shirt and jeans like anyone else in this heat, although it was surprising he'd wear a black shirt and not something light like Watari's yellow one.

Matsukawa tipped his head to Watari, and then his eyes were back on the bull terrier. " _Stop_ ," he said a little more insistently as the dog walked ahead and stood there with his tail wagging and smacking Watari's legs. Matsukawa rolled his eyes and tugged on the dog's leash, but the beast held his ground.

Watari chuckled. "It's fine, I've got it," he said as he carefully stepped over the terrier. The dog whined then and didn't quiet down until Watari knelt and patted his head. With the dog occupied, Watari looked up at his senpai. "Hi, by the way," he added with a smile, and he chuckled again when Matsukawa briefly looked away, clearly realizing he'd forgotten a greeting, as well. "Are these your dogs, Matsukawa-san?"

"Nah." Matsukawa motioned to the bull terrier with his chin. "That stubborn guy belongs to Ryouzou-san, the grandpa who lives next door to us, and these other two belong to the rambunctious young family of six across the street from my family. I got roped in to dog-walking at the last minute today, but, then again, I often get roped in to this." He pouted. "My parents insist I have a way with them, and my older sister refuses to go near dogs, so." He gestured with the leashes to finish.

"They're pretty well-behaved, though."

"Say that _after_ you've had to walk them in the early morning in early spring when it still feels like winter outside."

Watari smiled, and Matsukawa stopped pouting. "So I guess this is another job of yours then?"

"If only," Matsukawa commented as the dogs—mainly the shiba inu—pulled him along, and Watari walked beside him, the bull terrier falling back to trot between the two athletes. "I don't get paid for this, although sometimes Ryouzou-san loans me books as 'payment.'"

Ah. Something new about Matsukawa. "Matsukawa-san, you like to read?"

Matsukawa pulled a face, but there was a dusting of pink on the apple of the cheek facing Watari. "…kind of? I disliked all the reading we had to do in school, especially of the 'classics,' but I like some of the light novels Ryouzou-san collects. And the foreign titles, too."

"Wow… Are they translated or…?"

"Translated." Matsukawa paused when the dogs came upon a public trashcan and had a sniff around the bottom. "I don't have your brains, Watari."

"That's flattering, but I only know as much English as they teach us in class." Which was true. Watari had never felt the impetus to do outside reading nor considered studying other languages. Although now he felt a spark of curiosity at what foreign titles Matsukawa had read. And that curiosity reminded him of something else he'd been wondering the past week: "So, if this isn't one of your jobs, is it just the delivery service?"

Matsukawa shook his head, and they continued walking, although they crossed the street and headed back the way they'd come. "Mostly it's that. I'm kind of playing at being everyone's delivery boy since I'm on hand, and my parents loan me out when I'm not stocking in their store. There are a couple of family-run businesses surrounding ours," he elaborated at Watari's confused look.

"I see… No regular schedule then?" Watari's shoulders slackened. It must be tough, working in a family business… A part of him was glad his parents had normal, office-type jobs.

And that part of him that was glad for that kept him distracted, so he missed the tiny smile his question brought to Matsukawa's lips. "Not necessarily," the older boy said.

"Hmm?"

They went past the point where they'd met, but Watari kept with him. "…Tuesdays and Thursdays," he finished.

"That's when you work?"

Matsukawa shook his head, and he came to a halt when they reached the next block. "Deliveries are every Tuesday and Thursday to the hardware store, and I spend most of my days at the apothecary. But Sundays are definitely open." He heaved a sigh of relief. "Which I appreciate, even if I have to walk these guys."

The bull terrier yipped in response and barked happily when Watari shot him a smile.

"But, Watari…"

"Yes?"

Matsukawa pointed to the bus stop behind them. "I take it you came here via bus?"

Watari looked over his shoulder. Crap! He'd really followed Matsukawa, completely forgetting himself. "Ah, sorry, sorry," he bumbled, and his face felt hot…and not from the sun.

Matsukawa laughed softly. "Nothing to apologize for. I'd give you a lift if I could, but…" He held up the dogs' leashes.

"No, that's fine." His phone buzzed then, making him jolt, and he saw his mother had replied. "I have to go anyway…"

The bull terrier whimpered as if he sensed Watari's departure, so the libero knelt and scratched the dog behind the ears. But Matsukawa walked with him to the bus stop.

Watari almost brought up that he didn't have to, but he was getting the sense that Matsukawa was the kind of guy who did as he pleased, and Watari liked the company, so he kept quiet. The bus arrived two minutes later, anyway, so Watari got on and found a seat by an open window. He waved to Matsukawa, who waved back, and he happily chirped, "See you around!"

Matsukawa flashed him another peace sign like last week, but Watari knew that was his own way of saying the same thing. And Watari knew something else, too:

This time, when he got home, he'd be wearing anything _but_ a frown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sweet boys… TT-TT *loves them too much, both individually & as a ship* I also enjoy Watari's slight obliviousness as well as slight gullibility—the latter of which Mattsun will come to enjoy far too much. XD Let's see… Hoshimura's not as annoying as he seems, my headcanon about Kyoutani having younger sibs is something of which I refuse to let go, and Yahaba will be explained in the future. I also cherish Watayaha friendship, so that won't deteriorate, no worries. And we'll get to learn more about Mattsun, so stay tuned!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review! More precious children in ch5~!
> 
> -mew! c:


	5. When to Give In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship is valuable before and after the Interhigh.

Watari fanned himself with the collar of his t-shirt as he and Matsukawa sat in the back of the truck that Tuesday evening. "I kind of wish I'd holed up in the clubroom…," the libero moaned.

Matsukawa nodded his understanding; even he'd undone the top part of his laborer's outfit, tying the sleeves around his waist in a knot so he could breathe with just his black tee on. "The AC in there really does wonders…" His eyes sidled over to Watari, who sat to his right. "But, if that's the case, then you should get _home_ , Watari." He emphasized his words with a playful push on the other boy's head.

The shaven-haired boy laughed at the action. "I'm just catching my breath first, Matsukawa-san." He stopped laughing when he realized Matsukawa's hand was still on his head. "Um, Matsukawa-san…?"

"…maybe I should shave mine off, too… It'd probably be cooler that way…"

Watari sighed exasperatedly, gently batting his senior's hand away. "You'd _feel_ cooler but wouldn't look cooler, trust me."

"I'm half there already." He gestured at the back of his own head.

Watari eyed the undercut—a familiar sight, which he'd spent two years watching from behind on the court. But somehow he didn't think he could sign off on the idea of a Matsukawa without the generous handful of black curls on top. "Trust me, no."

Matsukawa rolled his eyes then, making Watari laugh again. "You're getting lazy, though."

"How?"

"Stopping in the middle of a healthy walk home."

Watari brought a leg up and leaned on his knee. "It's best not to push oneself in this heat." He glanced inside the truck, too, as if to add "And if we're talking lazy here, then let's talk about the rest of tonight's shift."

Matsukawa caught on and grinned, the mirth in his eyes communicating, "Point taken." "I hope the heat lets up for the rest of the week," he remarked, his lips a straight line.

"Yeah, same. Playing in Sendai's going to be hell like this…" The thought had occurred already to Watari and Yahaba, about how awful the trip there would be even if the gymnasium were air-conditioned. Watari had spoken, too, with Mizoguchi-san about having extra water bottles and towels on hand, as well as snacks. But now he sighed at the thought.

"What?"

"Ah, just…" Watari shook his head. "If ever we needed a team manager, the time is now."

"Maybe by autumn?"

Watari frowned at that. "Maybe…" And, though he hadn't thought about it for several weeks, he suddenly remembered Morioka's contact information, hidden in his desk at home. He groaned.

Matsukawa cocked his head in Watari's direction.

"Nothing… It's just… I wish choosing a manager were a simpler process."

Matsukawa stared at him. After a moment, he ventured, "It's not simpler than letting people know you need one and having them apply?"

Watari shook his head again. It was troublesome even thinking about it, but he told Matsukawa what had happened with Morioka. "I'm not hung up on it to the point where _that's_ delayed making a decision. Yahaba and I just keep putting other things first."

"This kind of thing is Oikawa's department," the black-haired boy stated.

"Yeah… Oikawa-san always had a crowd of girls following him around…" Actually, Watari wondered, maybe emailing Oikawa wasn't a bad idea…

"But I wouldn't hit him up for advice unless you want this somehow to get around to the other guys."

"Kind of moot, considering Morioka showed up at practice. Hoshimura and Ueno were all for it."

"But, other than that, handling them's been good so far, yeah?"

Watari smiled a little, nonverbally thanking Matsukawa for the obvious topic change. "I'll admit we're all closer now that we're in our last year and that those two are regulars, but those guys joined at the same time as Yahaba and Kyoutani and me. I _do_ consider them friends." Although he wondered if he'd meant that before saying it now.

"But Hoshimura's the social type," Matsukawa said as he got down on the ground and stretched.

Mentally, Watari made a note that the sun was well past setting—it was nearly gone. "Yeah. To be honest, Hoshimura's the type of guy who'd sell you out for a piece of candy, but he's not evil. I think he thinks of others, but more so when the situation benefits him, too. Ueno tends to go along with things and is loud, but he's actually less pushy than Yahaba, which is a welcome relief."

Matsukawa smiled at Watari's bluntness. "I didn't have the chance to know them well, but you paint an interesting picture, Watari."

The libero lowered his leg and held up his hands dismissively. "Oh, no! I didn't mean— I— That all came out wrong, didn't it?" he asked as Matsukawa rounded the truck on the left and went to the driver's side. A few quiet seconds passed, and Watari craned his neck to see around—and he yelped when something cold touched his thigh from behind him. He turned and found a playful Matsukawa holding out an ice-cold water bottle to him. "You walked around to scare me with this?"

"No." Matsukawa opened the one he'd also brought for himself likely from up in the driver's cab, took a swig, and recapped it. "But I figured you'd enjoy something cold on the drive home."

"I thought you said I was getting lazy."

"Then walk home on Thursday and finish giving me the current team summary tonight."

Watari chuckled to himself. Matsukawa really did as he pleased.

The graduate locked things up after Watari vacated the back, and he put the automatic windows up and cranked up the AC once they were buckled and off. "So there's the five of you. I take it Kindaichi and Kunimi are still regulars," Matsukawa added.

"Yeah. Kawasumi, in their year, is getting more play time these days, too." Watari shook his head, recalling practice from the day before. "Kawasumi's…a special kind. He views Kyoutani as his rival, and he often tries to compete in spiking with him. I'm not sure Kyoutani even fully realizes what's going on, but Kawasumi wants to be the team's next ace."

"What about Kindaichi?"

"He doesn't mind. He's one of the more reliable ones these days, along with Okino. In a way, it's as if Okino is Kawasumi's handler and Kindaichi is Kunimi's. Speaking of which, Kunimi's irritation after that newcomers training camp last winter has only ever gone up. He's putting legitimate effort into practice this year."

"Yeah…" Matsukawa messily ran a hand through his hair as he took the right that led towards Watari's neighborhood. "He was seriously pissed that Kindaichi was practically chummy with Karasuno's #10 after that." He darted his dark eyes to his companion. "But what about Okino? Is he playing much?"

Watari shrugged. "His training's going really well, but I'm holding on tightly to my spot."

"…not that I dislike Okino, but I was always relieved, knowing you had my back," Matsukawa said. Maybe it was the contrast of the noise of the truck's engine, but his tone was soft. That, coupled with the sincerity of his words, made Watari happy.

"I'm glad you guys knew you could rely on me."

Matsukawa nodded.

Considering they had only a few more minutes before they arrived, Watari gave Matsukawa a quick run-down of the new first-year additions to the team: Chiba, a new setter who seemed to space out most of the time but had frightening focus on the court; Sanada, a well-behaved kid who was a middle blocker and was new to the sport but was picking things up better than expected; Nakata, an energetic but friendly wing spiker who was the only other person who could keep up with the monstrous likes of Kyoutani aside from Kawasumi; Terakado, a newbie like Sanada and a wing spiker with an attitude like Kunimi's that also pissed of Mizoguchi-san; and Ishii, a quiet but good kid like Sanada who could play either the middle blocker or the wing spiker position. "Yahaba and Irihata-sensei were talking, and—though Ishii's not very tall yet—they'd prefer he block, as his talents seem to lie there better."

"Yeah, Sensei's always made decent calls," Matsukawa remarked. "Did you know?" he continued as they pulled up on Watari's house. "Hanamaki was a libero in middle school. Then he had a growth spurt at the start of high school, and Irihata-sensei refused to let him be anything but a spiker."

"Really?" Watari laughed along with him. "I knew Hanamaki-san had played libero before, but I didn't know the full story.

"Yep." Matsukawa's laughter trailed off, and he crossed his arms atop the steering wheel after coming to a stop, looking at Watari. "Well, your taxi has delivered you, Watari-sama."

The younger teen laughed again as he got out. "Thank you, Matsukawa-san." His usual parting almost came on that sentence's heels, but now that he knew the other boy's schedule… "See you Thursday," Watari said, and he kind of liked how it sounded like a promise.

Matsukawa's eyes widened, kind of as they had that first time Watari had promised to see him around. But he looked away and gave him a two-fingered salute. Again, the truck pulled away as Watari went inside.

Upstairs, in his room, Watari put his things away and thought about the day. Though yesterday's practice had been lively and certainly today's had been exhausting, he couldn't recall if he'd been particularly stressed today. It was so easy, he mused, to forget whatever bothered him or whatever cares he had when he had the opportunity to chat casually with Matsukawa. Chatting with Matsukawa was…lighthearted. And it made Watari lighthearted. And it was a complete difference from the stresses of the start of the year. Yes, those stressors hadn't disappeared, but they didn't seem as dramatic as they had before. And Watari knew he had Matsukawa to thank for that.

* * *

Yahaba eyed him warily Thursday night as Watari hastened to cram his things into his duffle bag after practice. "Um, someone piss in your shoes, Watari…?"

The brief crassness snapped Watari out of his daze. "Sorry. What?" he queried, looking to his friend on his way out of the clubroom.

"You're blitzing through as if you can't get away from us fast enough," Kyoutani translated. He, too, closed his locker and was on his way out the door.

Yahaba's hackles went up. "Kyoutani, dammit…!" But, as the ace was gone the next second, Yahaba returned his attention to the libero. "Unfortunately, he's right. Is everything okay? You seem ticked."

Did he? Oops. Watari remembered last week when he'd frowned without realizing it. "It's fine. I've just gotta go." He nodded to his friend and then hurried outside and down the stairs, though he didn't sprint. Today was _supposed_ to have been a resting day, but things had gotten out of hand with another one of Kawasumi and Kyoutani's spiking matches, and now Watari was leaving far later than he'd intended or had done recently.

Once he'd made it off the school grounds, Watari slowed from a hard jog to a fast walk. He reached the first crossing sooner than he thought, but he also reached it just as it turned red. Luck really wasn't on his side today.

He pushed his way through the crowd, blurting apologies and excuses as needed, and finally the hardware store was in view.

But, though the truck was there out front, the back was closed and Matsukawa was nowhere in sight.

Watari bit his bottom lip. He hadn't missed Matsukawa, not yet. Unless it was a different driver today… Just then, the engine started up and the truck signaled to get back on the road. Watari's pulse quickened, and he took a chance and yelled. "Matsukawa-san!"

The truck halted, and the driver's arm came out to rest on the ledge of the open window. Watari caught up with the right side, and he loosed an audible sigh of relief at seeing Matsukawa's face—if he weren't so late, he'd laugh at the sight of the umaibo hanging out of Matsukawa's mouth. But the older boy spoke around the salty treat. "Watari…"

"I know. I'm sorry!" Watari bowed his head in apology. "Everything got messed up and delayed today and—" He stopped and stood up straight, figuring how pointless this was. If Matsukawa had been pulling away, it meant that he really had somewhere else to be. But… Watari took out his phone and checked the time. Hell. Was he really here twenty minutes later than normal? He looked back up at Matsukawa. "Matsukawa-san, I'm so sorry for—"

Matsukawa cut him off not with words but with a gesture as he reached for Watari's phone and fiddled with it. He was done just as quickly as he'd taken the device, and he placed it back in Watari's hand, which hadn't moved in the libero's shock. He took the umaibo out of his mouth and gave the third year a small, sad smile. "I have to get going, Watari. So not tonight, sorry."

Damn. _Watari_ should be the one apologizing, not the other way around.

"But I'll see you soon. Just give me a head's up the next time you're running late," he said by way of parting with a quick point to Watari's phone. Then the umaibo was back in his mouth so both hands could be back on the wheel, and he and the truck were gone.

The shaven-haired stood there for a full seven seconds before his brain caught up with him. He looked to where the truck had been and then down at his phone. He unlocked it again and opened his contacts, since he had a sneaking suspicion…and there it was.

Matsukawa Issei, followed by his phone number. He'd even written a shorthand note in the entry about his hours: nine to three on weekdays at his family's shop, five to nine as needed on Tuesdays and Thursdays for deliveries, noon to six on Saturdays at his family's shop, and free Sundays.

Watari was so stunned, he walked home in a stupor, snapping out of it only when he tripped and nearly stumbled into his family's front gate. And snapping out of it was best, because, despite Matsukawa's kindness, Watari still had messed up, but he needed to be mentally prepared for tomorrow.

Yet knowing that didn't mean he could shake his sense of unease when he tried to sleep that night.

* * *

Watari inhaled, exhaled, and smiled to himself when he looked at his phone the next morning. Then he tucked his happy thoughts over his newfound friendship with Matsukawa away, pocketed the phone, and went downstairs for a quick breakfast before heading to school.

Most everyone was on time, although Kyoutani and Terakado raced to catch the bus just as Mizoguchi-san followed Irihata-sensei's orders to tease them a bit and slowly drive away. They stopped at the school gate to let the two knuckleheads board.

Yahaba came and sat beside Watari up front after taking a second, cursory rollcall as the bus headed for the main road. He plopped down gratefully and could only shake his head as snores escaped Kyoutani and Ueno across the aisle. "Gods. Look at them. They're back to sleep as soon as possible."

Watari fought down a yawn. "You'd think we'd be used to the early mornings by now, but there's always something about the morning of a tournament."

"Tell me about it." The captain paused and stretched his legs, and then he observed Watari. "Something good happen? Or bad?"

"Huh?"

"You're kind of like last night—your face is funny."

He settled the brunet with a dry look. "That's really rude, Yahaba."

"No! I mean. You're not exactly smiling. It's as if you're on the verge of smiling and then remember to frown at the last second." Yahaba leaned forward on his knees and furrowed his brow. "Nerves?"

Watari gave that some thought, though he knew the truth was that he felt a little bit of turmoil over seeing Matsukawa nearly in passing last night. He was certain his unease was over the ease with which Matsukawa had given him his info, as if it were an afterthought. "Not exactly," he said at last.

Yahaba groaned. "Ahh, c'mon, dammit. I'm captain, and my knees are shaking."

Watari watched him more closely: Yahaba looked a tad green. "You'll be fine," he assured him, giving him a quiet smack on the back.

"Thanks."

"Think you'll be able to sleep at all on the way?"

Yahaba shook his head but slowly leaned back in his seat. "My head's just running with a thousand different plays for today."

Watari grinned. "Yeah, same."

The setter ran both his hands through his hair and smoothed his coif before settling down. "Ahh… Sendai, yet again, here we come."

Further from the city, traffic was light, but things became congested the closer they got to Sendai City Gymnasium, even for this early in the morning. Yahaba ended up nodding off in spite of what he'd said, and he used Watari's shoulder as a pillow, but Watari didn't mind. It was his duty as both vice-captain and as Yahaba's friend, he mused to himself. He, on the other hand, stayed wide awake for the whole ride, his eyes glued outside the window to nothing in particular.

They did not have as busy a morning or day, for that matter, ahead of them as other teams did. Karasuno was slated to play Ohmisaki first, and whichever won between Oka and Senseki, which was the only new addition to their block this year, would be the ones to play Seijou before they could reach the crows, should Karasuno beat the winner of the Datekou–Tokonami game after a win over Ohmisaki.

"Space out your stretches while we wait," Irihata-sensei told the team as they found good seats from which to observe the Karasuno–Ohmisaki match. "Kawasumi, Kyoutani, Nakata—burn off some of that extra energy by doing running drills in the hall. Okino, go and keep an eye on them. Yahaba, Watari, pass the plays around so everyone has a reminder of our best bets for the day."

The players did as ordered, though Irihata-sensei, Yahaba, and Kindaichi paid closest attention to the Karasuno match, while Mizoguchi-san had Kunimi and Watari sit with him closer towards the Oka–Senseki match-up so that they'd have a taste of what to expect.

"Their blocker, #18," Kunimi observed of Senseki, "must've studied Datekougyou's tapes closely. He's trying to pull off a one-man Iron Wall."

Mizoguchi-san and Watari followed #18 for the rest of the first set, which Senseki took. "…yeah, I have to agree," the assistant coach groused. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and grimaced.

His grimace only deepened as Senseki took the second set, a winning combination of their single-person Iron Wall and a scarily effective and recurring use of pipes, and Watari shared his sentiments. "This is not going to be an easy match," the libero stated. Although, if it weren't for the grimness of the situation, he'd snicker at the matching looks of annoyance on Mizoguchi-san's and Kunimi's faces.

The Senseki match ended shortly before Karasuno's did, and the cheers were pretty big on the other side. When Mizoguchi-san's trio re-joined the others, they looked down and saw that Karasuno had won. Their team was no bigger than it had been the previous year, but clearly they'd gotten some new players with talent.

"Just when I thought we might catch a break…," Irihata-sensei commented as Seijou packed up to head down and begin warm-ups.

"What's wrong?" Mizoguchi-san asked.

"One of Karasuno's new guys," Yahaba answered for the coach. "He was the right wing spiker the couple of times they subbed him in, but his head—his eyes followed the action like a setter's."

"I thought we'd luck out, with Sugawara graduating, leaving Kageyama to shoulder the burden and tire out in games…" Irihata-sensei half sighed, half laughed. "Oh, well. An old man's wishful thinking." He smirked easily, however. "But they don't know what kind of new team we are this year, either. So."

Yahaba and Watari exchanged a look, and they agreed with their coach, feeling pumped. Kindaichi, who was listening in, nodded, and even Kunimi looked a little less put-out than he used to when it came to playing games.

Down on the court, it felt like _home_. Everyone changed into their jerseys and pushed their things aside, getting used to the floor and warming up their muscles, although Kyoutani and Kawasumi were among the first to practice blocks and receives since they'd already gotten into the swing of things.

Okino seemed unsure about donning his jersey, and the fair-haired libero kept tracing the nine on his shirt absentmindedly. So Watari passed Okino's elbow pads to him.

"Remember," Watari began, bringing up something he'd told Okino countless times since last year, "it's not about whether you're going to be on the court. It's about whether you know you're _ready_ to be there."

His green–gray eyes flickered from his jersey to Watari's face, and eventually the second year's anxiety lessened visibly. "…thank you, Watari-senpai."

Watari nodded and gave him one more reassuring smile before they joined in the receive warm-ups.

One plus to being seeded was that they wouldn't have many matches slated for one day. The first round would be finished by early afternoon, and the second was scheduled to end well before the end of the workday so that the students had decent time to return home. But that was the last thing on the minds of most, if not all, of the players at that moment.

Fifteen, ten, three minutes—it didn't feel real when the referees blew their whistles and signaled for the teams to line up. But it was time for the Aoba Johsai–Senseki match to begin.

Seijou's starting line-up consisted of Yahaba, Ueno, Hoshimura, Kyoutani, Kunimi, and Watari, with Kindaichi set for switching at the usual intervals with Watari. Senseki began by putting in that formidable middle blocker, #18, and Watari noted that the two players with whom their primary setter had pulled off the most pipes were also in the starting rotation.

Watari frowned and took a breath. Sure, his team was fantastic, but even he prayed to the gods for a spot of luck. It was bad to think of Karasuno with this opponent standing before them, but still…!

Ueno began the set with a powerful serve, giving them a service ace and getting them off on the right motivational foot. He had the best control of his serves out of the lot of them, and he pulled off a decent second serve, though Senseki's libero managed to save it before Seijou easily stole their second point.

The first set was chock full of volleys and points gained only to be matched a moment later. Near the fifteenth point for Seijou, Watari seized the opportunity to set behind the half-line, and Yahaba actually scored the brilliant kill that took them into the lead, sixteen–fourteen, and their fans cheered. After that, they gained another point after a flubbed serve by Senseki, and Senseki's morale started to decline.

Yahaba set an amazing backwards toss at set-point, and Kyoutani blasted through that pesky #18, securing Seijou the first set. One down, one to go.

The cheers in the crowd didn't stop for Seijou as they refreshed and switched sides. At one point, Watari thought he heard Hanamaki's familiar hoots and hollers, so he scanned the crowd but didn't see the alumnus. A tiny part of Watari was hopeful that, if Hanamaki were here, so, too, would Matsukawa. "Hey, are any of the—"

"No, they're not," Yahaba adamantly told Watari, but he appeared pretty happy despite being stoplight red. The captain was practically glowing.

Hoshimura hustled past Yahaba, rolling his eyes. He poked Yahaba in the head. "Don't get carried away, Captain."

That lessened Yahaba's smile, and he made a face at Hoshimura. "Oh, shut up, will you?"

And, though it'd been a while, again Watari felt as though he were missing something.

The second set began with Senseki's lead, a two-point gap that widened to three for a terrifying half-minute. But then Ueno and Hoshimura adjusted to Senseki's attacks, and Seijou's best defense occurred with those two and Kindaichi rotated to the front.

Kyoutani, stubborn as ever, still hadn't learned the valuable lesson of pacing himself, so Kawasumi subbed in around the halfway. But that bouncing bunny of a guy still had a low connecting percentage with Yahaba's tosses, so Irihata-sensei called for a timeout, and Yahaba told them of his plan to finish out with Chiba in his stead.

That turned out to be the right decision. Chiba was the type of setter who could bring the ball to anyone, much like Kageyama, except Chiba didn't give even his teammates clues as to when they'd receive them. Suddenly, it was as if Senseki's blocking didn't matter. With a near-expressionless Chiba, most of Kawasumi's and Kunimi's attacks got through, pushing Senseki to focus on using pipes.

But, of course, Seijou had Ueno, Hoshimura, and Kindaichi to dampen the effects of their attacks. And that made Watari's job a hell of a lot easier.

It felt like forever before Seijou claimed the second set, but claim it they did. There was a near-dogpile with Chiba at the center, and Mizoguchi-san had to bark at them to break it up so the teams could shake hands and officially end the match and vacate the court for the intermission between the early and late rounds.

Outside the building by the sinks, the sun felt welcome on Watari's face, and he was glad everyone had come outdoors to have lunch and recharge their batteries. "You know we'll need them, too," he even told Yahaba.

The captain laughed at that. "Why do you think I put Chiba in when I did? It's so Kyoutani and I can clip some wings next!" He slung an arm each around Watari's and Kyoutani's shoulders, but for once the mad dog didn't seem as angry over being manhandled.

"Kyoutani and you are gonna what?" someone else asked from further up on the green.

Fast as lightning, Yahaba straightened up, his arms gone from the other two. "Win, of course. And, really, you should tell me when you guys are coming."

Hanamaki grinned in response as he came into view. "Yeah, but it's more fun, keeping you on your toes guessing right before a match."

At Hanamaki's right shoulder, Shido's honey-brown head emerged. "Hanamaki, that's terrible…," he remarked with a chuckle.

But Watari's attention was on the other person, the one to Hanamaki's left. "It's terrible, but it's definitely wishy-washy like Hanamaki," Matsukawa said. His lips twitched up from smile to smirk. His eyes briefly went to Watari's. It was like a quick "Ah, hi, by the way."

"You guys came to watch," the libero said dumbly.

Shido waved to their former coaches who were several feet away and answered once they were closer to captain, vice-captain, and ace. "Yep! I don't work mornings, and my morning classes got cancelled." His thick, brown eyebrows dropped sharply as he jabbed a thumb in Hanamaki's direction. "And this one just loafs around all day." Hanamaki's grin widened at that.

"Slow day, so I got time off," Matsukawa said of himself. His smirk lessened to a genuine smile when he looked at Watari again. "Glad I could come, though."

"Right?!" Shido exclaimed. He playfully whacked Kyoutani in the arm, and he came over and rubbed the top of Watari's head as if Watari had hair more than peach fuzz to tousle. "You guys were amazing against Senseki! I didn't think they'd be so good, but you guys really held your own."

Watari beamed. "It's a team effort, Shido-san."

"Are you kidding?! Watari, you practically took care of _every_ dig that came your way! Is there even a better word than 'amazing' for that?" He looked to the other two graduates. "Seriously! Is there?"

Hanamaki was laughing so hard, he had to prop himself up against Yahaba, who looked completely done with the trio. But Matsukawa stuffed his hands in his pockets. "'Fantastic,' 'remarkable,' 'incredible,' 'marvelous,'" he rattled off, his tone a little hard.

The others gaped at him, though Watari only stared, not as shocked as the rest. "O-Oh… Yeah, okay, those are pretty good," Shido acquiesced, and he removed his hand from Watari's head and scratched his cheek instead.

Hanamaki snorted and rolled his eyes. "Anyway, you guys need to start eating, otherwise you're gonna run out of time to digest."

Yahaba froze. "Wait! Who won?"

"Karasuno," Hanamaki replied.

The captain heaved a sigh of relief. "Good. _Now_ I can eat."

"Ah, what's in your bento today~?" Hanamaki asked as he kept beside Yahaba while the setter walked off.

"Hanamaki, don't eat any of his lunch…!" Shido called after them, and Kyoutani trailed after them, as well.

Realizing they'd been forgotten, Watari gave Matsukawa a sideways glance. He couldn't help the small smile that emerged. "That's a really good vocabulary for someone who doesn't love reading," the shaven-haired boy mentioned.

He was rewarded with a hilarious sight: Matsukawa's disgruntled face, complete with pinched eyebrows, pursed lips, and lightly flushed cheeks. He sighed at Watari. "Yeah, yeah…"

However, having those dark eyes on him once more reminded Watari of their brief meeting yesterday, and his good mood dampened. "You weren't late, finishing last night, were you?"

Matsukawa turned to him fully. "…Watari. Seriously. Don't worry about it." He was smiling again, just a bit. "I told you I'd see you soon, didn't I?"

Ah. His words were so nice to hear again. "You did," Watari confirmed, ducking his head and going to where he'd left his bag with Kindaichi's and Kunimi's. He grabbed his lunch from it and returned to the outdoor sinks, sitting on the ledge so he could eat. The whole time, Matsukawa kept close by.

"I knew Shido wanted to come, and I knew Hanamaki was going to come as soon as he'd told Yahaba he might."

"I didn't realize they were close."

Matsukawa opened his mouth and closed it, and Watari thought he was stifling a laugh. But just as soon as the glee appeared on his face, it was gone—or at least tamed. "I'd been thinking of watching you guys this year, anyway, so long as I'm around."

Watari nodded his thanks. "It's nice, having the support." He ate some of his lunch, giving Matsukawa the proverbial mike.

The taller boy grumbled something incoherent under his breath and withdrew an umaibo from his pocket.

The libero watched this, and he felt a laugh bubble up within him. "Matsukawa-san…"

"Hnn?"

"You really need to eat better."

Matsukawa shrugged.

Watari scanned his lunchbox. "Matsukawa-san. Hold out your hand, please."

Matsukawa, though confused, did as asked. And he stared when Watari dropped a clump of spiced rice in his palm. Matsukawa looked between it and Watari. "Shido's gonna scold both of us if you don't eat your own lunch," he said. But he ate it anyway and even licked his fingers.

The other teen shrugged, though he was glad Matsukawa appeared to like the food. "Consider it part of my wish for good luck for the next game."

"You don't need good luck," Matsukawa insisted. He leaned back against the sinks, too, and leaned over Watari's shoulder and took another but smaller clump of rice and plopped it in his mouth. "But I'll wish for it for you all the same," he finished after swallowing.

Watari beamed at that.

Lunch ended not long after, unfortunately. The team needed to return inside to warm up again, so the alumni headed back to the stands. Judging by the drained expression on Yahaba's face, that was a good thing.

"Yahaba, you look like crap," Watari told his friend.

"Yeah… Remind me in the future not to have lunch with both Hanamaki and Kyoutani around…."

* * *

This time, walking out onto the court felt daunting as well as exhilarating. Now that they knew Hanamaki, Shido, and Matsukawa had come to cheer them on, Yahaba pointedly kept his eyes off the stands, especially when Hanamaki started yelling "Yoo-hoo~" at them. Watari exchanged a brief smile with Matsukawa, but then he put them out of his mind, too, when the team lined up and saw mostly familiar faces.

Kageyama and that #10 were playing, just as Seijou suspected they would. Other familiar faces were Nishinoya, the scary-faced guy with a shaved head, and their ever-growing blond middle blocker, who was impossibly taller than last year. Slightly less familiar was the plain-looking fellow wearing #1, but Watari remembered he'd stepped in for Sawamura when Sawamura had been injured the year before. So that and his number made him captain, Watari realized.

The worst part, however, was that Nishinoya didn't start with them right off the bat. Instead, that freckly guy did, and he kicked things off with a jump float serve.

Internally, Watari groaned. Since facing that serve last year, he'd specifically worked on saving that type of ball, and he'd made sure Okino had become passably good at receiving them, as well. But Mr. Freckles had none of the timidity he possessed from last time, and his control had improved. Much as Seijou had done to Senseki, Karasuno took a service ace right off the bat, and they almost claimed a second point that way, too.

But Watari was still here, standing on this ground, ready to keep the ball and his team in play. He got the ball up, Kunimi bumped it towards the front, and Yahaba used Kyoutani as a decoy so that Kindaichi could slam down a high ball that flew right over #10's head.

Mr. Freckles was back on the bench in the next rotation, bringing Nishinoya out, and Watari felt his nerves tingling. Though he hadn't faced against all of them, there were a few liberoes on whom Watari kept a close eye. Two of the top contenders were Shiratorizawa's Yamagata and Itachiyama's Komori, though Yamagata had graduated. Nekoma's Yaku, also gone from the high school volleyball scene, had been another clever one. But Nishinoya? Sometimes Watari wondered how that practice match last year would've gone if Karasuno had had him back in time for it… He was someone who'd managed to adapt even to Ushijima's leftie attacks, and he'd done so faster than Watari had when Seijou had faced Shiratorizawa. In short, Watari viewed him as a threat.

Though Karasuno had Nishinoya covering for them, their captain's receives were pretty good, too—not as great as Sawamura's, but still reliable. Overall, the team had shaped up well and was no longer offense-focused. Several times there were balls that Watari thought would just squeak in, in Seijou's favor. But that was not the case. And Karasuno always returned the favor in kind.

Seijou's mindset was grim when Karasuno took the first set, though that pushed Yahaba, Ueno, Kyoutani, and Kunimi harder. After the 25–23 loss, Seijou managed a 25–20 win in the second set. Before switching sides for the final time that day, Irihata-sensei and Hoshimura heaved sighs of relief, though everyone else was not on the same level. The annoying thing about Karasuno was neither their attack power nor their newly polished defensive skills—it was their _tenacity_.

Kunimi served first, but Karasuno's captain got the dig, sending the ball directly within Kageyama's reach. This started a short volley exchange, ending in Seijou's point, which Kageyama quickly took back with his own service ace.

Between attacks and blocks and saves, the points didn't stack up quickly, for either team. Both sides subbed in players. Seijou got a taste of another annoying crow, their other blond who also had a formidable jump float serve. Karasuno had to realize that Kawasumi was as troublesome as he seemed, and even Nakata got the chance to shine briefly so Kyoutani could calm down after making a foul.

But Yahaba stayed on the court, determined to see this through. Watari attempted to do the same whenever he rotated back in, but somehow a gap started developing in the scores. One point, then two…

Watari's eyes flickered to Yahaba as Karasuno led 18–16. Yahaba was frustrated, but he still appeared to have his wits about him. That was unlike Oikawa last year, who'd been nearly manic or bestial when he and Iwaizumi had pulled off those few blitz attacks…futile as they'd been.

But Seijou's attacks wouldn't be futile this year. They _couldn't_ be.

Yahaba tossed to a refreshed Kyoutani, but #10 and one of the newbies got a few fingers on the ball. Nishinoya recovered it, sending it straight to Kageyama, and Watari could sense the quick before it happened—that freakish play that only Kageyama and #10 could pull off.

Watari took a step forward and shifted his weight right as the ball came at him. But he was mistaken. He should've taken a step _back_. The volleyball hit him square on his left collarbone and came up, hitting his jaw as it ricocheted and drifted up front towards Yahaba. Watari didn't see who took the point, though, as he heard the tweet of the referee's whistle and the sound of Mizoguchi-san's heavy footfall near him.

"Watari! Are you all right?!"

He wanted to answer, but his mouth hurt. He hurried off the court with the assistant coach, passing by Okino as the second year took his place, but Watari didn't fight as his teachers murmured and he was led to the on-site medic.

Likely the game resumed once they ascertained Watari hadn't bled on the court. But Watari hated that the medics insisted on taking him to the first aid station outside of the gym. They poked and prodded his shoulder and collarbone, but those things were only sore.

"Look up," the medic said as the libero sat on a table and had a light shined in his eyes. At least the light went away—although stars appeared in his eyes when the medic touched his lip. They checked for tenderness and broken teeth and found none, but Watari was given a Steri-Strip after dabbing the blood from his lip. An assistant brought him some ice chips to hold in front of his teeth with his mouth closed to help with swelling, and he was sent on his way with that and a dose of aspirin.

He returned with Mizoguchi-san, and they hustled when they realized the game was still going on. Karasuno still led by two points, but now things were 23–21. The officials let Watari back in the game, and Watari gave Okino a high-five as he stepped back onto the orange floor. The second year looked ecstatic and worn-out and relieved all at once, and Watari drew on that relief for strength.

However, relief didn't win a set or a match. Not even ten minutes went by after Watari's return, and both teams crawled towards deuce territory, hanging on and almost definitely keeping each other from scoring. Watari thought things might turn around once they hit twenty-two points—

—but they didn't. Just like that, Karasuno pulled another two points out of nowhere. And the game was over.

The shock of their loss felt more acute than the one at the prefectural playoffs just last fall. Yes, they shook hands and gathered their things and cleared the court. Of course they waited patiently while the teachers accounted for all of them. And, yeah, they milled around outside the bus, ready to go home…

But Watari, like the others, was in a daze, and he didn't remember the game ending or having to leave. All he could recall was making it to a third set, and the iron, metallic, strangely warm taste and scent of blood from his split lip as it throbbed. Outside, where the sun had shone so brightly and warmly before, it felt oddly cooler as the sun hung lower in the sky.

The Aoba Johsai Men's Volleyball Club was told to start boarding the bus so they could head home, but Mizoguchi-san and Irihata-sensei weren't especially firm with them. Watari watched the scene play out before him like an awful movie: Kyoutani being his usual miffed self as he disappeared into the bus first; Shido comforting Kindaichi with a kind, heartfelt smile and a pat on the head, muttering "There, there" and sounding reminiscent of Yuda; Kunimi actually trying to hold it together in front of their kouhai; the others broken up to various degrees, though the worst were Nakata's wails to Chiba, and Yahaba crying into Hanamaki's shoulder.

Watari lingered behind the rest, taking everything in without trying to process it. He jumped when someone touched his arm, but his jitteriness evaporated once he realized it was Matsukawa, although he didn't have the chance to see the look on Matsukawa's face. Matsukawa turned Watari towards him, patted the libero's head, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

The hand on his head felt different from Shido's, the arm around him, different from Yahaba's. The tiny rational part of Watari that was still coherent at that moment knew that made sense, because Matsukawa was not Shido or Yahaba. That said, however, knowing it was Matsukawa made Watari appreciate the gestures more. And, because he could appreciate that, Watari could feel his composure weaken, until it finally hurt too much to keep holding it in. So Watari cried, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …a LOT happened in this chapter, but there were certain, covert things happening here, so I'm happy with how this turned out. I might also be playing fast and loose with the scheduling of the Interhigh prelims and whatnot ('cuz it's confusing af), but alas, I think y'all get my point. Not to mention, writing volleyball is like writing Quidditch… I put a lot into it, so I don't do it often (HA, like me writing smut, too, *lol*). Matsuwata getting along so simply, so naturally gives me life, though, and I always enjoy writing the former third years—Shido was so cute here, and Makki… *swoons* But I had the games go this way on purpose, so…well, you'll just have to see. ;3 Ah, and an umaibo is a type of snack, jsyk. OC art [here](http://le-amewzing.tumblr.com/post/157537055783/introducing-my-3rd-and-2nd-yr-leaf-ocs-d) and [here](http://le-amewzing.tumblr.com/post/157537488688/introducing-my-1st-yr-leaf-ocs-d-theyve-had), btw. :3
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always, and let's have a slight change of pace in chapter 6!
> 
> -mew! :3


	6. A Life Outside of Volleyball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matsukawa takes Watari's mind off things, and Watari learns something that makes sense about Yahaba.

His phone vibrated in the quiet of his room late on Sunday morning, but Watari didn't feel like answering the text. That lone sound in his room made the place seem so empty…though clearly he was occupying it, lying in bed in a t-shirt and shorts, staring at the cream-colored ceiling while a humid summer breeze blew in through the open window.

His dour mood at home had been carried over from school the day before and the evening before that. He honestly hadn't considered that they'd lose to Karasuno so soon in the year. Neither had the others, leading to a very subdued but brief club meeting after the half day the day after their loss.

Watari crinkled his nose at such thoughts. Even the word "subdued" itself sounded so miserable on its own…and then the word "miserable" reminded him of crying on Matsukawa.

He sat up, embarrassed at the memory and chastising himself. It wasn't as if Matsukawa and the others hadn't seen him cry before…yet things were different this time. Kind of like how Matsukawa comforting him was different from being playful with the others. So the memory of Watari crying morphed into the memory of Matsukawa walking him over to the bus after, an arm still wrapped around him, and Watari calmed down. He remembered sending Matsukawa a thank-you text that night and getting a kaomoji in response. The purely Matsukawa-ness of it all put Watari in a better mood now, even when his phone buzzed again.

The libero scratched his head and eyed the screen. He hadn't spoken to Yahaba outside of greetings the other morning, so the message wouldn't be from him, downcast as the captain had been. No, it was Matsukawa:

_-_ _＼_ _(_ _￣Ｏ￣_ _)_

Ah. Matsukawa's version of "hello," Watari guessed. He sent a quick response:

_-Good morning, Matsukawa-san._

Two seconds later:

_-Sleep well?_

Watari tapped his phone to his chin—and winced when he got it too close to his injury. He gingerly touched his lip, where a scab was forming, and then he lightly massaged the purplish bruise right below, typing with his other hand:

_-So-so. You?_

_-_ _(_ _。_ _-ω-)zzz_

The face made him chuckle. But he had a stab of pain again, and he rolled his eyes at having a split lip as a new message came in:

_-No_ _U_ _＾ェ＾_ _U_ _today._

Ah. So he wasn't out with the dogs today. Watari frowned at that, because Matsukawa with the neighborhood dogs was an interesting sight. Before he could reply, Matsukawa sent something else:

_-You free?_

Hmm. Technically, he was. But Watari also wanted to get a head start on making his own study guides for finals next month… And he wanted to message Yahaba that, since their plates had lightened, they should decide on a manager before long—definitely before Spring High prelims, which was the obvious next goal. His phone buzzed again, snapping him out of his thoughts:

_-_ _【・ヘ・_ _?_ _】_

…ah. Clearly, Matsukawa was trying to cheer him up. He could picture Matsukawa raising his eyebrows at him, waiting for an answer. Watari distractedly thought about Matsukawa's arm around him again and caved.

_-Yeah, I'm free. What's up?_

_-Hardware store in 10._

And that was it. Nothing else, but Watari inferred that Matsukawa was asking Watari to meet him there. Considering that was the exact amount of time he'd need to get there, Watari swung his legs off his dark blue comforter, swapped his shorts for a nicer-looking pair of capris, pulled on his socks, grabbed his wallet, and went downstairs.

His dad did a double-take from the living room couch at seeing Watari up and around. "Shinji? Are you heading out?"

"Yeah. A friend wanted to hang," the libero replied as he pulled on his everyday sneakers right inside the vestibule.

"Make sure you have your phone and are back before dark. Tell Shigeru we say 'hi,'" he added as he turned back to watch the news.

Watari shook his head at that, entertained. He and Yahaba really did hang out a lot as it was…but it was kind of refreshing, leaving and not correcting his father that he had other friends, least of all pointing out that Matsukawa and Yahaba were two _very_ different people.

Humid though it was out, the heat wasn't so bad, and the blue sky was peppered with bright white, cover-giving clouds, so the walk into town was fairly enjoyable. It was a little strange, Watari supposed, to be heading for the hardware store from this direction instead of just passing by it on his way to school, and a vague memory popped into his head, that Matsukawa's family's shop was blocks away from there. Huh. Did his family live above or close to the shop? If not, Watari wondered if Matsukawa had borrowed the delivery truck… If so, he really didn't wish for Matsukawa to go out of his way like this just to cheer Watari up.

Though the libero would be lying if he said he didn't like the idea.

Outside the hardware store, Matsukawa stood off to the side, hidden in the shade of the adjacent store's awning. He picked up his head when he sensed Watari's eyes on him and smiled.

"You must deal with the heat better than most people," Watari commented, stunned that Matsukawa had donned a black shirt again—a polo this time, along with jeans.

Matsukawa pointed to the awning overhead, like "I get by with shade only." He turned slightly, as he had before when he wanted Watari to follow him, and the two teens crossed the street and headed for the bus stop further down the road.

"'Where are we going?" Watari asked. He bumped into Matsukawa's side when they got on the bus right as it arrived, and he apologized since he couldn't do anything about the tide of weekenders sloshing out of the vehicle.

Matsukawa tugged him out of the way and kept him close as they grabbed the closest overhead handles. The bus got moving again, and Matsukawa gave Watari a small smirk. The likeliest translation: "You'll see when we get there."

He gave the taller boy an exasperated look, because he wasn't one for games when the weather was like this. But his expression only made Matsukawa's shoulder's shake with silent laughter.

It was only another ten minutes before they disembarked in a familiar neighborhood, and Watari hustled to keep up with Matsukawa's long strides as they entered the local movie theater, a gently used building sandwiched between a popular ramen shop and a lawyer's practice. The destination was a surprise, and Watari bungled offering to pay for his own ticket when Matsukawa picked up tickets for goodness knew what and continued to lead the way to one of the screens.

They grabbed seats pretty much in the middle of the theater. Watari wanted to ask what he'd been dragged to see, but the few previews began, and the film got rolling shortly after that. So Watari settled in for the ride.

The opening credits were slow-moving and dragged out as the camera set the scene in a bright village somewhere in the Western hemisphere. Using the light projected onto the screen, Watari stole a peek at his friend's face, hoping to discern what on earth would compel him here.

Matsukawa looked at ease, with his eyes glued to the screen. His eyes flitted over the foreign cast list and lit up once the subtitles appeared as the first characters spoke. That was when his excitement was plain on his face, and Watari guiltily tore his gaze away, remembering this was the older boy's treat and so Watari should try to enjoy this in the least.

…well, he tried. Though the dialogue was pretty, as were the actors, Watari found the story hard to follow. As best he could comprehend, this was some kind of parallel, semi-magical world, and the main characters literally could not live without each other. There were a few interesting sequences that built suspense but never bloomed into genuine action scenes, but Watari found that he kind of liked that, even if he didn't grasp the story.

When the end credits rolled, Watari still wasn't sure what they'd just watched, but the lights in the theater went on, and the excitement was still evident on Matsukawa's face.

"Different, huh?" the black-haired teen asked, a laugh in his voice as they stood and stretched after sitting for two hours.

"That's a word for it," Watari offered honestly. He walked beside the taller boy as they exited.

Matsukawa released his laugh. "It's fine, Watari. I wasn't sure you'd like it, to be honest. But it wasn't that bad, was it?"

The younger teen shook his head. He squinted when they returned outdoors to the admonishing rays of sunlight and said, "There were some things I liked. I just didn't follow the ideas too well, I think."

"Yeah. Me neither."

Watari blinked up at him. "You didn't get it?"

"Not entirely, but I like it anyway." Matsukawa put his hands on his hips and rolled a kink out of his shoulders. He cocked his head towards Watari. "I think it's enjoyable to like something even without understanding why."

There was childlike sincerity in his tone, which made Watari grin. In his mind, Matsukawa had always been a cool and funny guy. As of late, he'd become a kind figure in Watari's life, too, and friendly. But this side of Matsukawa? It was endearing.

Matsukawa opened his mouth to say something else, but his stomach growled. He closed his mouth and grimaced, definitely disliking having been interrupted.

"It's fine," the shorter boy told him with a chuckle. "I could eat."

Matsukawa nodded his thanks, and he let Watari pick out their lunch spot.

* * *

Though Monday wasn't any easier than those first few days after the Interhigh prelims, Watari knew he wasn't as hung up on the loss as his teammates were. Lunch that day ended up being just him, Yahaba, and Kyoutani, which was a quiet enough affair. Lunch on Tuesday? Just him and Yahaba, which normally produced better results, but even Watari knew he only had about three tries in getting a conversation started without Yahaba's help before things were doomed an utter failure.

After take three—an "Oh, hey, I saw Mizoguchi-san yell _with_ Kunimi at Terakado in the halls at the end of the day yesterday"—failed to bring a smile to the captain's lips, Watari rolled his eyes and gave up, settling for eating his bento in silence. Once he was a third of the way through his lunch, Yahaba finally piped up.

"…sorry," he grumbled. He sighed, bowed his head, and apologized again. Then he rolled up his sleeves and dug in to his own lunch with weak vigor. "I know practice resumes tomorrow and I need to realize that."

"Well, that _is_ what any other captain would do."

Yahaba's light brown eyes narrowed at him. "Thank you, Vice-Captain Obvious."

Watari grinned.

Yahaba grunted at that, but he was starting to smile again. "Sometimes I wonder how Oikawa-san did it, y'know? I go nuts half the time."

"I think he knew Iwaizumi-san and the others and we had his back." He paused, recalling some distinct memories of practice last year. "Although I guess that was questionable at times, in Hanamaki-san and Matsukawa-san's case."

The captain barked a laugh. "Definitely!" He calmed down, though the smile didn't leave his face, and he stared at more than ate his lunch. "I'm glad."

"For what?"

"That the senpai came last week."

"Yeah." Watari dwelled yet again on how easily Matsukawa had come up to him to comfort him, but he shook himself free of the reverie when he felt Yahaba staring at him, so he stared back, warm gray eyes meeting brown. "What?"

"Nothing. Just… Shido-san was the same as ever. Hanamaki-san, too," he added quickly, and he took a bite of whatever meat his mother had packed into his bento. Then he returned to observing Watari. "Matsukawa-san, though…"

"What about him?"

"I didn't realize you guys were chummy."

Watari furrowed his brow. He was certain he'd said something similar to Matsukawa, about Yahaba and Hanamaki. It was odd, hearing this sort of echo. "Not that we didn't get along before, but I guess I understand your curiosity. I've been hanging out with him."

Yahaba's eyes widened—it was subtle, but to a trained, friendly eye, it was noticeable. "Oh."

"What?" Watari pushed. Yahaba at least didn't jump to funny conclusions as Hoshimura was wont to, but Watari believed he saw a gleam in his friend's eye.

"Just wondering how that happened, with him working and all."

"It was circumstantial. I cross paths with him on the way home. I guess we just never noticed each other before a couple of weeks ago." Which was an interesting thought. Matsukawa must've only just had the hardware store added to the delivery route, otherwise Watari was positive he would've seen him before then.

Yahaba kept watching him, interested in the new topic. "What's he like, outside of club?"

Watari pursed his lips. There was a part of him that didn't want to go into detail, since he was enjoying discovering things about their former senpai. But he also knew that Yahaba wouldn't let it go unless Watari coughed up some of the truth. "He's…about as talkative as you'd expect," he started, and he couldn't help smiling when Yahaba laughed at that.

"Go figure. What else?"

"He really does carry a snack on him at all times. Even if they're only mints," the libero added. It was a detail he'd learned when they'd gone to the movies, as Matsukawa had eaten a few like regular hard candies during the show. But thinking of that, of Matsukawa and the dogs, of Matsukawa who'd driven him home a couple of times now, he felt a twinge of sadness and, weirdly, loneliness. His shoulders sank as he met Yahaba's eyes again.

"What's wrong?" Yahaba's face fell, too.

"It's like…I wish I could've gotten to know him before they left, you know?" Although, Watari supposed, he probably just envied the idea of having time they hadn't had these past two years.

Much to the shaven-haired boy's surprise, Yahaba gave him a skeptical look and snorted. "What are you talking about? Of course we know them." He even put his lunch aside and held up his hands to count off on his fingers. "Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san are practically married. Matsukawa-san is the more levelheaded between him and Hanamaki-san. And Hanamaki-san…"

When the setter went quiet, Watari also stopped eating and focused on him. If he hadn't, he would've missed the small smile Yahaba nearly kept to himself.

"Hanamaki-san," Yahaba continued, "has a ridiculous sweet tooth, never keeps his hands to himself, and is much more of a child than he appeared to be in club." When he finished, color slowly crept into his cheeks, but Watari knew even without the visual clue.

"Oh. You actually know him like—"

Yahaba picked up his lunch once more, pushed the rice around in his bento, and nodded. "Yeah, I love him a lot." He sat up straight then, digging in to his lunch once more as if he'd simply pointed out that the sky was blue and that it was hot in the summer. "So I'm glad he came by and cheered us on, although I really could've done without the surprise."

Several things clicked into place then for Watari, and he laughed. "His sudden appearance threw you off, didn't it?"

"Did not," the other boy insisted, but that only made Watari laugh harder.

"But, Yahaba, while your free pass to escape mixers is all well and fine…please don't ditch me for Hanamaki-san again," he quipped, because that now was the only explanation for their shopping trip cut short.

Yahaba beamed and laughed, too, no longer bothering to hide his rosy cheeks. "No promises."

* * *

With practice resuming tomorrow, Watari's day ended well before he might stumble across Matsukawa, so he went home, changed, got some studying in, and returned around the normal time like usual. Matsukawa's eyebrows knitted together in momentary confusion, but he seemed to get it when Watari got within hearing distance. "Cool-down period, right," the alumnus stated.

"Yeah. Freedom ends tonight," the libero said, and he took a seat in the cargo hold as he'd grown accustomed to doing.

"Only for a little while," Matsukawa reminded him. "Then you'll ace your exams and be on break."

"True, true." Watari beamed, even though summer practice was an ever-present thought in his brain. It had occurred to him yesterday that, though Matsukawa was busy working, Watari's break might make things more workable when it came to meeting up. He wasn't sure he wanted to see another movie so soon, but there were plenty of other things to do. …all right, aside from just hanging out and talking or maybe grabbing a bite together, Watari came up dry. But he'd put forth a solid effort if Matsukawa was open to seeing him more often.

Matsukawa quirked an eyebrow at Watari's quiet happiness but didn't prod. "You going to be fine tomorrow afternoon?"

"I think so," the shaven-haired boy replied, noting the smaller-than-normal stack of boxes in the truck this early in the evening. "Yahaba's back to being himself, too, and I think the chipper likes of Kindaichi and Okino will turn the rest around, if they haven't come around already."

Matsukawa nodded his head, like "Good, good."

Watari twisted his lips and watched Matsukawa's profile while the other male momentarily was lost in thought, counting boxes and checking an order paper he'd plucked from his jumpsuit's breast pocket. "Yahaba also told me about him and Hanamaki-san today," he ventured.

Ah. There it was: a slight twitch of his eyebrow before his eyes crinkled and Matsukawa turned to Watari with a demure grin. "It wasn't my secret to share."

"I figured you'd say something like that." Watari brought a leg up and rested his elbow against his knee, cupping his cheek in his palm. "How long?"

"Have I known? Basically from the start. Hanamaki is the type who wants to tell at least one person, and we're close enough that he told me. That, and Hoshimura saw them making out in a stairwell one time, so Hanamaki read me in, anticipating needing damage control."

The libero nodded. That also explained why Hoshimura had given Yahaba the mixer pass to begin with; the blocker knew. And yet… "How long?" he repeated.

Matsukawa did a double-take before it clicked. "Ah. Since the start of your second year."

Watari lifted his head up from his palm, stunned. "That long? I can't believe I didn't notice."

"No one else did either, so I wouldn't feel bad if I were you." He frowned, likely realizing how that sounded in light of Watari's friendship with Yahaba. He tipped his head toward the younger boy, a nonverbal apology. "I think it makes sense, to keep it quiet."

"Why?"

Matsukawa gave him a questioning look. "Watari…most people still find that kind of relationship weird even in this day and age, especially in Japan." He folded up the order and tucked it back into his pocket before turning fully to Watari. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, as if to ask "You don't find it strange in the least bit?"

But Watari shrugged. "Yahaba's my friend and he's happy, so I don't think I have any right to feel negatively towards him being with Hanamaki-san. Even if I thought I had the right, I wouldn't bother." His shoulders sagged, but only because this topic was shifting into familiar territory. "Boyfriends and girlfriends and all that—it's not that I don't care to think of such things; I just never devoted any energy to them."

Matsukawa shrugged, too, half nodding along with Watari's words. "I can empathize."

Not that he'd been expecting an attitude from Matsukawa that was like the other current third years' regarding Watari's lack of interest in having a love life, but Watari felt more at ease hearing that response. "We're two peas in a pod, I guess," he remarked with a quiet chuckle.

"Now there, I'd disagree."

"Oh?"

The taller boy's face was painted with his trademark impish grin. "I bet you were thinking earlier that it'd be far too soon if I dragged you to another movie I'm interested in."

Damn. So he'd been found out. …though he was impressed how little escaped Matsukawa's notice. "I didn't say that," he blustered, cupping his cheek in his palm again if only to hide his face. The skin of his cheek felt hot against his rough palm.

"It's okay, Watari," he assured him, though there was mirth in his tone. Matsukawa heaved himself into the back and shifted some things around, calling over his shoulder, "I don't expect anyone to share my weird tastes these days. Not even Hanamaki and them. None of them go with me either."

Watari frowned at that large, gray back. Sometimes he wasn't sure he liked how Matsukawa said things—like stating this simply now, or rattling off where all his classmates had gone when the two of them initially caught up. Matsukawa had this tendency to…gloss over things that Watari knew would make anyone else sad. "I never said I wouldn't go with you again," he asserted.

Matsukawa was quiet for a moment. He stood up straight then, collecting a small box into his arms and returning to the mouth of the cargo hold. He dropped to his haunches at the edge, having to look up ever so slightly at Watari with their poses this way, squat by sit. He locked eyes with his companion, and, in the streetlight that flickered on nearby, Watari imagined steel-colored chunks appearing in those warm black irises. That's what Matsukawa was—all blacks and grays. It was a color palette stunningly devoid of real color, but it suited him nevertheless. But at last Matsukawa conceded, closing his eyes for a moment and making Watari feel triumphant. "There are probably other things to fret over anyway," Matsukawa said, half to himself, as he slid out to stand on the pavement.

"Like what?"

The amusement was back in his eyes and there in his smirk as he chuckled. "Now that you know about Hanamaki and Yahaba, expect to be ditched on a regular basis."

Watari groaned exasperatedly, eliciting a snort of true laughter from his friend. "Hell… I hadn't considered that."

"Ah, Watari… Just hit me up if Yahaba abandons you in the near future."

"I might take you up on that…" He couldn't help the dry look he gave Matsukawa.

But the older boy only laughed harder. "I _swear_ , it was a good movie. It's based on one of my favorite books, and they did an okay job, transitioning it from page to screen."

"If you say so…" An idea popped into Watari's head while Matsukawa dashed inside the store to make the delivery, and he asked when Matsukawa returned. "Could I give it a try?"

Matsukawa's eyebrows lowered while his eyes widened—the Matsukawa gawk. "Making a delivery…?"

"No! The book! I want to read the book the movie's based on!" Watari elaborated. He reddened and gave Matsukawa a rare but tiny glare when the older boy guffawed, obviously messing with him. Really…!

"Sure, sure… I'll bring it with me on Thursday. Text me so I don't forget, okay?"

Watari made a show of pulling out his phone and setting a reminder of his own in his calendar. He gave his friend another little glare when Matsukawa kept snickering, but he didn't hate Matsukawa's reaction. In fact, he could read on that countenance how pleased Matsukawa was, hearing that Watari wanted to borrow the book, and Watari liked seeing Matsukawa happy like this.

Seeing Matsukawa like this, talking with him like this, interacting with him like this—Watari was coming to appreciate the value in seeing things from a different perspective in order to learn new things. In particular, new things about others…no, about Matsukawa, the libero corrected with a mental apology to Yahaba, because Matsukawa was a more interesting subject to Watari than the topic of Yahaba and Hanamaki was. Even just watching Matsukawa's profile again and taking the time to make note of the bemused dimple that formed on his right cheek when Matsukawa caught Watari lost in thought—these were experiences Watari had missed out on before, but he decided not to mope any longer about getting to know Matsukawa this late in the game.

Instead, he looked forward to Thursday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *SCREAMS* It's there. The Matsuwata's there. I just. *screams again* I've written some angst for my boys before, but I really wanted this story to be a slice-of-life slow build that's fairly lighthearted, because they deserve all the love, and they deserve each other. Hanayaha shouldn't come as a surprise for anyone who knows me or has read my works, but let's just say that, in a way, Hanayaha ends up playing a key part a little later on. ;3 Mattsun's texting habits and weird movie tastes, tho… *loves him even more* But I hope you're all falling for Watari just as you're falling for Mattsun alongside Watari. -w- Our lovely little libero leaf needs more appreciation~!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review! 7 will be an interesting ride for Watari.
> 
> -mew! ;}


	7. When the Right One Walks In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matsukawa invites Watari over.

In the end, Watari forgot to send Matsukawa a reminder text because he kept his phone off during the school day, so Matsukawa in turn forgot to bring the book. They realized this when they locked eyes at the usual meeting place, all gaping mouths and pointing fingers and wide eyes. But they burst out laughing at themselves, and Watari had to wipe a tear from his eye once he got closer to the truck. "Sorry," he said, but he didn't sound sorry at all with the delight lacing his tone.

Matsukawa waved him off, like "It's fine, it's fine." He looked at the time on his phone and pursed his lips. He raised his eyebrows at Watari. "…unfortunately, it's a bit on the late side if I left to get it now."

"Don't worry about it," the libero insisted. He leaned against the bumper, crossing his legs at the ankles. "You can just bring it next time. It's not as though I was going to sit here and blast through it so we could talk about it."

Matsukawa pouted.

"Wait…you didn't really think…?"

But the taller boy snickered and rubbed Watari's head teasingly. "Of course not, Watari. You really are a gullible guy."

Watari gave him a look. It wasn't that Watari agreed he was gullible. But something about Matsukawa kept him on his toes. "You, Matsukawa-san…"

Matsukawa grinned and waggled his eyebrows, as if saying, "Me, what?"

The shorter boy averted his eyes. "By the way," he started, changing the subject, "my apologies ahead of time if I'm flipping through flashcards when we next meet."

Matsukawa shrugged, a quiet "Well, it _is_ that time of year." "Just don't forget to take care of yourself during exam season."

His warm words brightened Watari's mood. "I won't."

The black-haired teen ran a hand through his curls and turned away, clearing his throat. "And, since you can't study _all_ the time…you're more than welcome to come over this weekend to borrow the book." He glanced back at Watari. "That's the simplest way to ensure I don't forget to loan it again," he added with a tiny chuckle at himself. He started to frown the longer Watari stayed quiet. "I mean, if you'll even have the free time to read it…"

Watari came back to his senses. "No, I promise!" he assured his friend hurriedly. He wasn't even certain why he'd gone quiet—maybe it was just from astonishment? "It may take a while, but I'll read it."

Matsukawa once more was pleased to hear Watari say that. His smile was easy and soft and bright.

Watari had to avert his eyes a second time.

"Ah, hey."

"Hmm?"

Matsukawa reached for Watari, turning his face towards him and tilting his head up slightly. He peered at the libero's injury in the streetlight. "It's gotten darker, the bruise… How's it feel?"

Watari was slow to answer, since the first thought in his head was that Matsukawa's fingers were welcomingly warm where the medic's had not been last week. "Okay," he said. "Mom says these things will always look worse before they finally get better. Although I have enough experience with that," he continued, flexing his right arm jokingly and poking the inside of his forearm. His arms didn't bruise as easily anymore, now that he'd been a libero for years, but those early injuries weren't something one woke up one day and suddenly forgot.

Matsukawa nodded, but then he eyed Watari up and down. "You've grown," he remarked. "Jersey #2 suits you."

He laughed at how the older boy had spun that, since Matsukawa no doubt missed his old uniform. "Yeah… I kind of miss #7, though," Watari teased.

"Hey, show some respect for #2." He pouted yet again.

"Yes, yes, Matsukawa-san…" His smile reached his eyes as Matsukawa finally opened the back door and did something resembling work, climbing in to right some packages that had fallen over. "I just can't separate the idea of #2 from being _you_ , though. You're always going to be #2."

Matsukawa snorted. "What, can't picture me as #1?"

Watari chuckled lightly. "No."

Matsukawa made a face over his shoulder and threw Watari a peace sign. "Yeah, well, I'm a ten anyway." But he couldn't keep his face straight for long, and the both of them burst out laughing afterwards.

* * *

When Sunday morning came, Watari got up and got dressed. He ate breakfast with his parents and watched two of the morning variety shows with them, waiting for Matsukawa's text saying when they'd get together. The message came mid-morning, so Watari kissed his mother's cheek and hugged his father's shoulders and told them he wouldn't stay out all day.

He got his shoes on and stood, but he caught his reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall to the left of the front door. He hadn't paid much attention to his appearance before—after all, his mother kept after his buzz cut, and his stubble came in so slowly that he only ever had to shave about once every other week—but the bruise caught his eye, much as it had Matsukawa's several days ago. Absentmindedly, he touched it, but it didn't really hurt anymore.

"You're walking around, looking as though you've been in a fight."

Watari jumped at his mother's voice. He glanced at her standing a foot away, the television forgotten, and mustered a small smile. "I'll be fine. The neighbors won't talk, Mom."

"Of course not. They know you're a good boy, Shinji." Even so, she sighed. "If you're going to meet a friend, though, are you sure you don't want me to cover that up?"

He blushed at the thought of her putting makeup on him, and he held up a hand to stop her. "No! That's perfectly all right. I'll see you two later." And he hustled out.

At least that gave him a comical anecdote to share with Matsukawa when they met at the hardware store minutes later and got walking. "Your mom's a blunt lady" was the first thing out of the older boy's mouth.

"I know…" Watari's shoulders sank as he groaned.

"It's not a bad thing, Watari. Bluntness is sometimes a kindness," Matsukawa told him.

The shorter teen gave him a thankful glance. "You're a natural, you know."

Those thick, black eyebrows went up.

"At comforting others. You always say the right thing."

But Matsukawa shook his head. "I say what I think is the best of about three options. It's on you to take it well," he added nonchalantly.

Either way, Watari was happy. He bumped his shoulder against Matsukawa's arm, another sign of gratitude.

They passed by the bus stop and walked for a while until the block was behind them. They walked for another block before Matsukawa darted a guilty look Watari's way. "I hope you don't mind…"

"Mind what?"

"Not driving there. I don't have the truck today."

Watari made a show of taking a deep breath and exhaling. "I'm fine, Matsukawa-san. If I didn't have the stamina for this, I would have no right standing on the volleyball court."

Matsukawa nodded, but the corners of his mouth curved up smoothly. "I prefer walking most places anyway."

The libero couldn't help it—his eyes dropped momentarily to Matsukawa's long legs. Of course Matsukawa had no problem with all the walking. Watari was a tad jealous….

After the third block, they hooked a left onto a decently busy street. It was similar to the part of town where the hardware store was located but had less foot traffic than the theater neighborhood downtown. There were more mom-and-pop shops located here, as well, and they passed a complex with three sets of two business stacked one on top of the other. The middle bottom store had a light, mustard yellow sign with burgundy lettering: Sekitan Apothecary.

"Ah!" Watari pointed and slowed, but Matsukawa kept walking. "Is that—"

"Yes, it is, but Sunday's an extremely busy day, so we're not stopping." He frowned when Watari jogged up to his side. "Sorry. Didn't mean to sound snappish."

"Don't be. You're there the rest of the week. You can't want to spend your day off there, too." The shaven-haired boy patted his shoulder, and the unusual bout of tension vanished from Matsukawa's body language.

Two streets over, they were in a purely residential area, but Matsukawa's neighborhood was unlike Watari's. Here there were a handful of traditional houses, and Watari was excited when Matsukawa led the way to a large, two-level home two houses into the second street.

The house was a weird and wonderful mesh of old and new, with a black, Japanese-tiled roof and sliding doors as well as a wide second floor and all the natural, Western amenities. Watari caught a glimpse of the dining space—an old, low table feet from the kitchen—as he followed Matsukawa upstairs in a daze. On the staircase, he was distracted anew by countless pictures on the walls in assorted wooden frames, some images black-and-white, others in blinding color, clearly from Matsukawa's childhood.

Matsukawa glanced behind him as they arrived on the second-floor landing. He made a face as Watari kept darting his eyes between one shrine visit picture in particular and the older boy. "Just ask, already," Matsukawa grumbled.

"Is that you? And your sister?" Obviously, it was. The two adults in the picture in the nice dress and pressed suit, with Matsukawa's eyes and hair and an ever-present hint of a smirk, were Matsukawa's parents. Matsukawa and the girl shared the same black curls as them, although young Matsukawa's bright eyes were black compared to his sister's brown gaze. She was also twice his height.

"That was taken at my first Shichi-Go-San," Matsukawa stated, the grumble still evident in his tone, though Watari could tell he wasn't angry but embarrassed. "Kako was nine at the time, I was three—but she still acts at times as if she's still that much taller than me."

"You're cute in your formal dress."

"Yeah… Like everything else around here, old clothes still look best." He continued after pointing out the bathroom at the end of the wide hall and letting Watari in to his room, "No doubt you noticed the house. It's Taisho-era, which is why it's the mishmash it is, Eastern and Western. But that fits in with the family business. It's called an apothecary, but it's really a specialty pharmacy, since my parents and sister can do compounding. My mother's great-grandfather started the business after getting out of mining, and no one ever bothered to update the name." He shrugged after pulling out two leaf-patterned cushions for them to sit on, and he closed the door. "Even my first name and my sister's are old. We're an old-fashioned family." He stared when Watari remained quiet. "Uh, Watari…?"

"Your room…is huge."

"Is it?" Matsukawa looked around. "I guess, compared to Hanamaki's or Oikawa's, yeah… But Iwaizumi's and Sawauchi's are about the same, though they also live in old houses."

Matsukawa clearly misunderstood. Watari took everything in, in one fell swoop. The room was about the size of a small apartment. Hell, if it just had its own electric cooktop and a washroom hidden behind one of those sliding doors, Watari _would_ call it an apartment. Compared to the modern bed-desk-dresser combo Watari had in his bedroom at home, Matsukawa had a low table in the middle of the room, much like the dinner table downstairs. He had two low dressers standing side by side, too, atop one of which was a closed, thin laptop and a freestanding flat-screen television, the latter hooked up to a gaming system placed on the other dresser. All the wood matched, even the bits of the bedframe not hidden by sheet, which Watari wasn't certain he would've expected for someone who didn't seem to care about appearances or aesthetic coordination.

So Watari looked instead for hints of Matsukawa around the room, and he spotted them. The wastebasket full of snack wrappers. The volleyball in the corner of the room by the foot of the bed, near his old Aoba Johsai duffle bag. The clothes hanging in the open closet opposite the dressers—there was a lot of black and gray, but there were greens, too, especially some deep, earthy hues. Huh. So there _was_ some color to Matsukawa. Blacks, grays, pine greens—they really all did suit him, Watari thought cheerily to himself. And, though there was a surprising lack of posters, for movies and music alike, Watari spied something that he knew to expect.

"All right, you can no longer tell me you only 'like' reading," the libero said, stifling a laugh as he pushed some shirts aside and revealed the stacks of books on shelves built in to the back of closet. They were actual stacks, too, not organized into rows as one might typically do.

"And _you_ can no longer say you practice manners," Matsukawa quipped, coming up behind him and half closing the closet. "I graciously invite you in to my abode and the first thing you do is rummage through my closet?"

His tone was too silly, Watari _had_ to laugh. "'Abode'?"

The greatest thing occurred then: A red tint appeared on Matsukawa's ears and seemed to spill into his cheeks at having dug his own hole with his unusually literate word choice.

Ah. Another color to add to the ever-expanding palette of Matsukawa Issei.

"Just—step over there, will you?" Matsukawa murmured. He tugged on the back of Watari's t-shirt, pulling him to the right so Matsukawa could do some rummaging himself, pushing this and that shirt aside to block Watari's view.

Watari didn't mind, though. "That's a _lot_ of polo shirts," he pointed out.

"Yeah, well, they fit me best outside of formalwear." He said something else which was lost to the muffling of cloth, but he emerged for air a few seconds later and passed two books to Watari. "Here."

The younger teen eyed the titles. An anthology and a novel, _Wish You Were Here Yesterday_. "So the movie's based on this? It has a different title, though," he commented, skimming the novel's back.

"A lot of movies based on stories are like that, especially foreign ones," Matsukawa said. He closed his closet and motioned for Watari to take one of the cushions around the edges of the table. "Although sometimes the movie's absolutely nothing like the story except for maybe a scene. Iwaizumi likes some old movies aside from those cheap kaiju ones, and he told me once that Kurosawa's 'Rashomon' has little to do with Akutagawa's short story of the same name."

Watari nodded and put the books on the table. He flipped through the pages of the anthology with Matsukawa straightening up an already neat bed in the background. He stole a peek at this sight, bemused with Matsukawa's ingrained host manners…and the embarrassing number of pillows at the head of the bed. Watari slept with one, two pillows at the most. Really, these childish aspects to his senpai were starting to break down the distinction of senpai and kouhai in Watari's mind, but he still showed respect for someone older than him by only a month. "Matsukawa-san, what's with the anthology?" he asked, getting back on track.

Matsukawa sat across from him on the other cushion. "That has some of my favorites, which I also want you to read," he answered, plucking it from Watari's hands. He leaned to his left and opened the bottom drawer of the TV-topped dresser, digging for and withdrawing a half-used notebook. He flipped to a blank page and tore it into strips. "This one, this one, this…and this, too," the taller boy stated, bookmarking each one with a lined strip of paper. Happy with his handiwork, he closed the book and passed it back.

Watari shook his head, quirking an eyebrow at his friend. "I feel as if I've been given required reading."

"Pretty much." A wolfish grin followed.

The libero rolled his eyes. He went to the anthology and did a quick page count. "I'm not sure how soon I'll get through all of these."

He sensed more than saw Matsukawa deflate.

"But," Watari started, his thumb paused in the middle of the collection, "this one's just a few pages, so if you don't mind me reading when we're together, I can read it now." He sneaked a look up at the other male.

The grin was still there, just less wolfish and more content. Matsukawa nodded and reached for his laptop, and music filled the room a minute later. It, like Matsukawa's theatrical tastes, tended towards the odd side.

"Matsukawa-san…I'm not sure I can concentrate with that playing…"

The volume dulled, but the music was still present.

Watari lifted his eyes from the printed word, observing his friend once more. Matsukawa was lost in his own world, but the excitement remained in his eyes. At this, Watari relaxed, and he lost himself in a world of artists and feathered beings that didn't exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c All right! So, since anything I have to say about Matsuwata could potentially give away the story at this point, I'll just stick to defining/explaining a few things that were brought up, especially with regard to Mattsun's family (as I've been told by friends before that they don't always know things about Japan that I do and tend to use in my stories—sorry! ;w;). Firstly: Taisho Era—this was Japan after the Meiji Era; Taisho was 1912-1926, coming on the heels of the Meiji Restoration (1868-1912), when Japan was embracing many aspects of the Western world (such as fashion, food, and architecture), so it's entirely possible for Mattsun's family home to be the "mishmash" it is. Secondly: Sekitan Apothecary—the apothecary really is as Mattsun describes it, though the name "Sekitan" means "coal" and comes from his ancestor's mining background (even Mattsun's ancestors, like Mattsun, did as they pleased…*lol*). Thirdly: movies and books—Kurosawa Akira is renowned for his films, though what Mattsun says of Rashomon is true, about it having nothing to do with Akutagawa Ryuunosuke's "Rashomon" save for one scene (in reality, Kurosawa took the main plot from Akutagawa's "In a Bamboo Grove"); as for the short story Watari starts reading and the light novel, Wish You Were Here Yesterday, those are based loosely on two manga by Bikke, Kabe no Naka no Tenshi and Shinkuu Yuusetsu, respectively (though the title Wish You Were Here Yesterday is of my own making), and I highly recommend reading them just for fun (you don't have to read them in order to continue with reading this; in addition, Bikke's Senpai is another brilliant read -w-). Fourth and fifth: Shichi-Go-San and kaiju movies—Shichi-Go-San means "7-5-3" and is a sort of early coming-of-age ceremony for Japanese children at those ages (cute pics of little ones in kimonos standing in front of shrines abound); "kaiju" refers to monsters in movies like Godzilla, which explains why Iwa-chan was mentioned in the same breath. ;] What else… Ah. With Mattsun's background, I realized it would make sense for his family to be pretty well-off, so "designing" his room was fun. And Mattsun in black, gray, and green is a favorite thing of mew's, so deal with it. ;P
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review! Ch8…things might get rough for Watari. XD
> 
> -mew! B3


	8. Some Kind of Envy, Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watari and Matsukawa make loose plans, while Watari begins to struggle with what he didn't realize was important to him.

While June plodded on, Watari only read one other of the short stories. Practice and classes were like normal, but studying became a priority, especially with the oppressive July sun beating down on everyone as a reminder of the beating they'd take if they didn't dedicate time to exam preparations.

Watari would much rather read more and have the discussions with Matsukawa that followed. That first story he'd read at Matsukawa's house, of angels falling in love, had been short, but it'd left an impression on him. Matsukawa had been the same way when he'd first read it, he'd told Watari, because the descriptions were vague and yet the story painted such a clear image in the reader's mind. The romance of the story took a backseat half the time to the fantasy, but both teens found they enjoyed that most about the tale.

"I could do with flying away myself," Watari uncharacteristically whined one Thursday evening spent in—guess where?—the back of the delivery truck. He kept the ice-cold water bottle Matsukawa had given him this time against the back of his neck while Matsukawa drank his own.

"Running away from problems doesn't solve things, it only delays them," the older boy pointed out. "There will be plenty of time to read during your break anyway."

"I know…" And the shorter teen did. He just—frankly, fraternizing with his former senpai couldn't have happened at a worse time, because even Watari could understand wanting to play in lieu of doing academics.

He felt Matsukawa's eyes on him, a sensation he was getting used to since that often happened when Watari went over to his house on Sundays. He understood it when Watari read while they were in Matsukawa's room, with Matsukawa waiting for him to be done, but it made less sense when they watched TV or a movie together since their attention was supposed to be on the screen, or when Watari checked a game guide for Matsukawa since the libero was crap at being backup in a first-person shooter but could look up anything in a flash.

Watari lifted his head, warm gray eyes meeting warm black ones. "I guess, then, the next thing I read when we hang will be my notes."

Matsukawa chuckled as if to agree, a quiet "That's probably for the best" on his lips. He blinked then. "Or."

"Or?"

"I could quiz you. I wasn't in the college prep class, but the material's mostly the same."

The shaven-haired boy broke into a wide grin and finally took a sip of his drink. His grin lessened the more impish Matsukawa looked. "…what?"

"I was thinking. If you do well on your first-term finals. Do you want a reward?"

The bottle slipped a fraction in Watari's grip, but luckily the water didn't splash much on him, only dribbling down his chin some—his chin and lip, which by now were injury-free, no bruises in sight. "Like what?" he asked, but he hoped his voice was steady. The moment the question had left Matsukawa's mouth, Watari's heart had pounded in his chest. He thought he kind of understood why, since he anticipated Matsukawa messing with him again. But, even figuring that to be the reason, Watari had a hard time getting his pulse under control. Damn!

Matsukawa snickered. "Maybe a movie of your choosing. Or someplace you want to eat."

At last, his pulse returned to normal. "Matsukawa-san… There isn't much playing right now. And you almost always treat me when we're out or offer snacks when I'm over."

The older boy stroked his chin thoughtfully, and Watari found it interesting, how the slant of Matsukawa's eyes was flatter when he was thinking. "You _have_ said I should eat better…"

"Hmm?"

"I could cook you lunch next time you're over."

Watari was skeptical. Considering what Matsukawa tended to eat… "You cook?"

"I can survive on my own when my family's at the shop almost 'round the clock, Watari," he replied dryly.

Watari snickered this time. "All right. You can prove yourself then."

"If you want something else, then let me know."

"No, no, that's fine."

"Watari." Matsukawa waited for his friend to look at him, and he patted the smaller boy's head. "There are times to be selfish. That's okay, you know."

For a second, Watari thought his pulse had quickened again, but the feeling was gone as fast as it'd come. He pulled Matsukawa's hand off him by dragging the older teen's wrist away—ah, Matsukawa's wrists were so much thicker than his own—and placed the hand on the bed of the truck, patting it primly. "No, I know. I'd like that lunch, honest."

Matsukawa stared at him for a second before nodding, accepting that response. His eyes then flitted to the sky, and he sighed. "You should probably get home… C'mon, I'll drive you."

Considering the heat, Watari didn't object. This time the drive was relatively quiet as they enjoyed freezing with the air conditioner blasting them, and they arrived at Watari's house in fairly short order. Watari hopped out, but he called into the cab before he closed the door, "See you Sunday, Matsukawa-san?"

"Only if you bring your notes."

Watari laughed. "Will do." Then he closed the door and went around the front of the vehicle to reach the front gate. But he reached the front door and realized a subtle change in their routine, and he happily waved to Matsukawa since the alumnus had waited to make sure he got inside this time.

Matsukawa gave the usual two-fingered salute. Then he pulled away, though the rumble of the truck's engine seemed, to Watari's ears, to echo in the violet-sky night, even once it was long out of view.

* * *

Yahaba yawned loudly after collecting the printouts about academic standing at the end of the club meeting that weekend. "Half days do me in…," he mumbled to his vice-captain, and he yawned again.

"Stop that…!" Watari groused, but he, too, yawned. He envied foreign countries with school systems that ended the school week on Friday instead of on Saturday. "We've got the last week of the semester off from club because of exams. The last thing I need is a nap—same goes for you. Keep your nose in your books." But, as he said it, it fell on deaf ears, for Yahaba was checking his messages on their way back into the school building.

"Yes, yes, Mother…"

Watari grunted.

But Yahaba's eyes lit up. "Well, I can tell you that the last thing on my mind is napping." He beamed. "Hanamaki-san's free right now."

"Really? _Right_ now?"

Yahaba settled him with a blank stare before breaking into another smile, the kind that put Watari in mind of a scheming hyena. "Actually, you should come with me."

Oh, for crying out loud… Watari thought Matsukawa had been joking about Yahaba ditching him, now that Watari knew the setter's secret. But being _asked_ to be a third wheel? He held up a hand to stop his friend right there. "Um, _no_. No way in hell."

"Just come with me," Yahaba bitched, and he pushed Watari forward. They paused at the faculty room to drop off the printouts, and then Yahaba got to pushing Watari out of the school, as well.

They didn't head for Yahaba's house, though Watari wondered if that were even a possibility for the couple. Recalling Matsukawa's words about people not embracing Yahaba and Hanamaki's relationship, Watari wondered if either boy's family knew about them. Personally, he thought such revelations invited trouble, if Matsukawa wasn't exaggerating. Agh. These kinds of things made Watari realize how far out of his depth he was….

They took a bus, and Watari had an inkling about their destination when they passed the turnoff for downtown. Just a few minutes later, they got off on a now-familiar street, and Watari had a bounce in his step beside Yahaba as they entered the store with the mustard yellow sign.

Hanamaki's round head popped up around a tissue display inside, and he waved exuberantly. "Oi! Yahaba! Watari!"

"Pipe down, will you?!" Matsukawa snapped from behind the counter. He wore a white shop apron with "Sekitan Apothecary" across the chest over a prim and proper green button-up, and he looked especially worn-out. He pouted when he saw Watari behind Yahaba.

"Long day already, Matsukawa-san?" Yahaba asked. He pulled up on Hanamaki's side, but there was no kiss or hug. Watari wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. Then he glimpsed Hanamaki slipping his hand into the setter's, and their body language shifted, relaxed and gravitating towards one another. Hanamaki's unbridled excitement toned down, too, so he looked to be at peace. Ah. They really did care for each other.

Hanamaki snickered, bringing Watari back to the present. "Nope," he told the two third years. "His shift _just_ started, so this guy's still got a whole six hours ahead of him." Hanamaki shrugged, as if he knew better than to get a job. "But he still hasn't learned not to stay up past two in the morning, running a campaign."

Watari, who only had puzzle games on his desktop, was glad he'd gotten to watch Matsukawa play his videogames, otherwise he'd be utterly lost in the lingo. But that wasn't what got his attention. "Really? Two in the morning, Matsukawa-san?" he chided.

The black-haired teen heaved a large sigh and dropped his head against the counter. "I know, I know," he mumbled, "but it's _his_ fault." He pointed an angry finger at Hanamaki, who merely guffawed at the whole scenario.

"I feel your pain," Yahaba told Matsukawa. Hanamaki yelped as Yahaba pinched his hand as punishment. "He tells _you_ to stay awake, and then he texts _me_ in the middle of the night, sleep-deprived and delirious."

"You've never ignored a single message, though," Hanamaki purred, and his tone and frankness set the rest of them on edge. Watari felt as red as Yahaba turned, and even Matsukawa groaned against the counter and brought his arms up to cover his ears so as not to hear anything else completely mortifying.

"You'll have to excuse us," Yahaba garbled with a fake laugh to the other two. He turned Hanamaki around and marched him out of the store, not wholly unlike how he'd pushed Watari here in the first place. But of course there was a different air about them than there was around Yahaba and Watari.

The libero followed them with his eyes and then approached the counter. He stifled a laugh, seeing Matsukawa hiding. "You know, Hanamaki-san isn't very different from what I already knew of him."

"Yeah…" Matsukawa slowly raised his head, calmer now. He met Watari's eyes. "He's just _more_ Hanamaki than ever, now that he has someone else to show off in front of."

"He shows Yahaba off?"

"Oh, yeah. After graduation, we grads had a party just for us, right? Just us, no parents, no faculty, all food and fun—mostly Oikawa's treat—and Hanamaki, he…" He leaned his elbows on the counter and clasped his hands. "That idiot invited poor Yahaba, who didn't realize he'd be seeing more than just Hanamaki at the time, and then Yahaba arrived, frozen in the doorway, and Hanamaki put his hands on his shoulders and announced they were dating, and Yahaba—well, I think he almost broke up with Hanamaki on the spot." Serious though his words were, he was grinning, and Watari grinned, too, since the mental image was too unreal not to laugh at it.

"I can see for myself that that didn't happen," the shaven-haired boy interjected.

Matsukawa shook his head. "Nope. Oikawa and Yuda squealed like girls over it. Shido and I went back to eating, 'cause I knew and Shido had figured it out. Sawauchi was frozen like Yahaba, hearing that, and Iwaizumi looked really disgusted."

Watari snapped to attention. " _What_?!"

"Oh, not about them being gay. Iwaizumi's just bad at handling romance, that's all," Matsukawa explained.

"Oh. _That_ sounds more like the Iwaizumi-san I remember."

Matsukawa smiled and nodded. "Yeah… Poor guy. Can't believe he's known Oikawa for over a decade…"

"It's nice, though, when you think about it. Being close to someone like that for so long," he added at those raised eyebrows.

A yelp outside the shop reached their ears. Through the storefront's window, they could see Yahaba scowling at Hanamaki, but Hanamaki only seemed more delighted by this fact. Hanamaki's face neared his, and Yahaba's anger dissipated—

"Ah," Watari coughed, and he noted he was the only one to look away right before they kissed. He admired how Matsukawa watched openly, calmly and with his cheek cupped in his palm.

The graduate sighed. He was used to this, so he gripped Watari's shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll come to ignore them soon enough."

Watari nodded dumbly. "Do they come here a lot?" As he asked, he realized that wasn't even what he cared about. Despite being turned away several times before, he finally had the chance to see the other place that so often occupied Matsukawa's time. It seemed like any other drugstore, especially with a few convenience goods sold towards the front. It was the counter that made the difference, and Watari looked behind Matsukawa to see a lot of unusual equipment and containers.

"Hanamaki bugs me almost every Saturday, though Yahaba's pretty good and tries to get Hanamaki to change their meeting location." He followed Watari's line of sight behind him and smiled just a little, perhaps slightly discomfited. "…it really is an apothecary," he stated.

"I'm trying to picture you grinding ingredients and—well, I can't."

Matsukawa shrugged it off. "Same here. My parents are meeting with associates right now, and it's my sister's break, so I'm just managing things, but, aside from stocking, I'm out of my element here." He laughed at himself and scratched the back of his head, but he glanced warily at Watari. "There's nothing to see or do here, Watari…"

His sheepishness brought a smile to Watari's face. "You're here, though. That's something to see." He laughed softly when Matsukawa pouted again.

"Sorry to ruin the good mood," Yahaba said without announcing himself as he came up the aisle. He was frowning and clutching his cellphone quite tightly, and Hanamaki wore a particularly nasty expression behind him. The captain faced Watari. "Irihata-sensei called. Not that I wasn't expecting it, but Kyoutani's grades are crap. Ueno could use some help, too. I thought I'd call up Hoshimura and we'd schedule that ambush you and I were talking about over a month ago."

Watari blinked. He'd forgotten about that. But it couldn't be helped. He gave Matsukawa a brief but halfhearted smile. "Duty calls. I'll text you later, though, Matsukawa-san."

Matsukawa nodded, and Watari left with Yahaba, feeling eyes on the back of his head again. Yet this time the libero looked back, stunned to find Hanamaki eyeing him, jealousy evident in his tawny eyes.

Yahaba did a double-take, and he bowed his head to Watari and told him to wait. The setter jogged back to his fussy boyfriend and placed a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in close and saying something only to him. Whatever it was placated Hanamaki, so Yahaba re-joined his vice-captain, and they hurried to catch the bus as it just took off.

"Just when I thought the day was over…," the brunet griped as they dropped into the only free seats available, up near the door.

"Hanamaki-san seemed…"

"Oh, he was pissed. Saturdays are for him," Yahaba said. "As soon as school's out or extra practice is over, when we have it, Saturdays are for him." He shook his head and chewed on his lower lip. "I reminded him that small sacrifices now pay off bigtime later."

"Still. Did he have to look at me as though _I_ was the bad guy? I didn't pull you away."

"I know that. He knows that. So I doubt that's it."

How he'd worded it— "Then it's something else?"

Yahaba's eyes widened, realizing how that sounded, and he scoffed and waved Watari's worries away. "No, no. I mean, I doubt it's anything. Hanamaki-san's a kid sometimes, I told you that before. Honest, Watari," he finished, effectively ending the conversation there.

Watari decided to believe him, though he kept replaying the visit to the apothecary in his head. He didn't dwell on Hanamaki, instead zeroing in on how Matsukawa had morphed into his usual self after some cajoling from Watari, despite having wished Watari hadn't bothered with the store in the first place. He liked how good things were between them.

At Kyoutani's house, the circus was in full swing. Kyoutani's younger sister greeted the captain and vice-captain at the door and offered them tea as she showed them in to the living room, but Kyoutani and Ueno were playing with Kyoutani's youngest sister and his two younger brothers. No work was getting done.

"What's the point of an ambush when you just sit here, drinking tea?" Yahaba growled at Hoshimura, who was doing exactly that with a carefree expression on his face.

"Easy," the slope-eyed fellow said. "I just wait for the captain to come along and do his thing." He brightly offered Watari and Yahaba the plate of cookies. "Cookie?"

Yahaba screamed—not too loudly, just out of frustration. He enlisted the help of the second-eldest in getting her siblings to behave, and Ueno came to his senses when Yahaba scolded him. With all that going on, Watari mentally apologized to his friend and then joined Hoshimura on the couch. He took a cookie but didn't eat it.

"You guys got here fast," Hoshimura commented with a side glance to him.

"We were with Matsukawa-san and Hanamaki-san…"

There was a glimmer in that blue–gray gaze. "Ah. So, Yahaba…"

"Yes, I know."

Hoshimura, remarkably, gave him an empathetic smile. "So you've seen firsthand how he and Hanamaki-san are."

"Yep."

"Drives you nuts, doesn't it?"

Watari furrowed his brow. "Not really…?"

"No, I mean—they're not annoying. Well, they _can_ be, but—" Hoshimura twisted his lips around, his eyes following Yahaba as their captain triumphantly grabbed Kyoutani by the collar of his shirt. "He comes to life so easily around Hanamaki-san, and vice versa. Kinda makes you envious, doesn't it?"

The libero opened his mouth to reply, but he quickly shut it. Huh. The truth was, Hoshimura had a point. And Watari wasn't certain he disagreed with Hoshimura's point of view.

* * *

"…Watari."

Watari snapped out of his daze upon hearing an unusually firm tone from Matsukawa the following afternoon. Yet he stared at his notebook.

"What's the answer here?" Matsukawa's finger entered his field of vision and pointed to the second question on the page.

"Forty-two."

A pause. Matsukawa's finger moved to a question on the opposite page. "Years for the Russo–Japanese War?"

"1904 to 1905."

A sigh. "Hey."

It was as if Matsukawa had tilted Watari's head up with his hand. "Yes?"

"What's on your mind, Watari?" He furrowed his thick brow, as if adding, "This is so unlike you." Which was a valid point. Watari had decent focus on the court, off the court—except for right now.

Watari pursed his lips and dropped his eyes again to his notebook. He put his pencil down. "I guess…a lot." Though he wasn't sure he wanted to bring any of it up to Matsukawa.

Matsukawa put Watari's study guide down on the table and leaned back. "Thinking about the future?"

Watari tensed. In a general sense, Matsukawa had hit the nail on the head. He picked his head up again, frowning and watching Matsukawa in his natural habitat.

The black-haired boy stretched slowly, lazily, like a cat. Then he crossed his arms on top of the table and leaned forward on them. He glanced at the textbooks and study guide and notebooks spread out, everything Watari had brought in a small knapsack, and returned his eyes to Watari's face. It was there, readable in his dark eyes: "Sorry I'm not much use in this way."

"Oh, no, you're helpful, trust me," Watari assured his companion.

Matsukawa's head-on gaze was doubtful.

" _Really_ ," Watari insisted with a small chuckle. But even he knew his heart wasn't in it when he laughed.

Matsukawa stole a peek at his wall clock, hanging above the dresser with the TV. "We've been at it for three—no, damn. Four hours." Watari had come over after lunch, so they hadn't had to stop to eat, though they'd finished a bag of chips and a small box of candy together, and Matsukawa alone had eaten half a bag of marshmallows and finished off his leftovers from last night's dinner. The big guy was always eating, Watari had realized a while back.

The younger teen ran a hand over his face, pausing to rub his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. "Have we? Frankly, I didn't notice."

"Yeah, I get that." It was subtle, the soft flatness of Matsukawa's lips, but it was the precursor to his frown.

"Sorry," Watari fumbled. He scratched his cheek nervously.

"Y'know, Watari… It'd probably sound hollow if I gave you a lecture based on how well I knew you when we were still teammates. But I hope you'll listen to me now that we genuinely know each other, because I consider you a good friend, and I don't like seeing you unraveled."

The smaller boy blinked. It was amazing. Matsukawa had never spoken so much, and Watari didn't want to interrupt him, partially out of fascination. He nodded for Matsukawa to continue.

"I thought you were reliable before, and I can say for sure, now that we're together so often, that you're precisely that. You're a good kid, a good guy, a good friend, a good student, a hell of a libero. I get the sense that you're very comfortable in your own skin. You have your opinions and feelings about things and people, and they don't really change unless necessary. But…you're also very used to being you, so you don't quite know how to handle something too large that's been thrown at you."

…ouch. Watari winced at the sharpness of Matsukawa's words, though his senpai's tone was rather tame. But, yet again, Matsukawa wasn't far off.

"Don't worry about the Spring High or about graduation. Trust me. Life doesn't end after high school, though I'm sure you'll do better than Hanamaki has, or even me." He ended his little speech with a wry grin, hoping to ease the tension.

If anything, Watari felt his heart break a little. In all honesty, he wasn't worried about those things, not more than anyone would expect from a third-year high school student. But Hoshimura's words, Yahaba's secret, Matsukawa's friendship… They were all reminders to Watari of how precious time was. Though he hadn't thought this way before, he now wondered if he'd spent his time wisely. His parents weren't the types to go on and on about reminding their son to "live while you're young," but he wasn't a stranger to the idea.

Matsukawa sat up straight while Watari stayed silent. The former blocker closed the study guide and snapped the textbooks shut and, when the other boy didn't resist, reached for and swung Watari's notebook shut, too. He made a nice, neat little stack and gingerly pushed it towards Watari. "…all right. I know a losing battle when I see one. Let's call it a day, Watari."

Watari gave him a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes and obliged, slipping his books and stationery into his bag and getting up from the table in Matsukawa's room, Matsukawa right behind him as they went downstairs. Matsukawa's house really was an ideal place to study on Sundays, because it was always empty and therefore always quiet.

By the door, Watari tied his sneakers and bowed a little to Matsukawa. But the taller boy ignored his parting and crammed his feet into his own sneakers, too, breaking the backs before he tied them loosely.

"Do you have an errand to run for Kako-san?" Watari asked, confused. It wouldn't be the first time Matsukawa's older sister left him a note to take care of something. Sometimes Matsukawa and Watari would duck out just for that purpose on Sundays before they returned to relax or, as of late, prepare Watari for finals.

But Matsukawa shook his head. He held the front door open for Watari, and he followed the shorter boy outside after locking up. They walked to the low gate at the front of the property, which Matsukawa also held open for him, pulling that, too, shut behind them.

Watari almost told him that Matsukawa didn't have to walk partway with him, but he quelled the thought as soon as it bubbled up in him. It was a nice day, even if it was ending, and Watari enjoyed walking with Matsukawa. Where before he was reminded of how much taller Matsukawa was than he, of how much longer Matsukawa's legs were, of how much bigger Matsukawa's strides were, these days Watari liked to keep count of the number of steps he took with each of Matsukawa's, to see when their paces overlapped, to note the difference in their shoes even, how Matsukawa's were one and half times bigger but were a little dirty and a lot more worn and looked beaten especially in the back, compared to Watari's near-pristine white ones that looked well-loved and just this side of used.

After they cleared the first block and arrived at the second, with Sekitan in view, Matsukawa lightly bumped Watari's shoulder with his arm. "It's not as bad as I've probably made it out to be," he said, jutting his chin towards the mustard yellow sign.

They walked by, and Watari noticed through the window how many customers the store had. Sundays really were busy for them. "It's the family business," Watari stated.

Matsukawa shrugged. "Yeah. But jobs like that—as I said, that's not in your future, Watari. Heck, I'm not even sure how long it is in _mine_."

 _That_ got Watari's attention. He came to an abrupt halt at the end of the second block. "What do you mean?"

Matsukawa stopped when he heard Watari's voice behind him. He turned, hands in pockets, wearing a casual expression. "I've been debating attending university. My grades were okay, so I could manage it, I think. Unlike Hanamaki, though I think he'll get a job before summer's over." He waited for Watari to catch up, and he continued only once they resumed walking. "I never had any solid plans for after school, but the teachers didn't pressure me because of my family's business, which has been around for so long. Oikawa and Yuda and Iwaizumi and the rest—they all knew what they were doing."

"So…you're leaving?"

Again, Matsukawa shrugged. "Who knows? The future's ever-changing, though I admit I like Shido's way of doing things, living at home and commuting to the nearby university." He bumped Watari's arm again and smiled, trying to coax a smile from his friend. "Hey. Come on. It's not the end of the world, Watari. You'll be off at university yourself come next year."

Watari put more effort into generating a real smile for him, which Matsukawa appeared to accept, as he dropped the subject. They cleared the third block, and the street with the hardware store came into and went from view, and then they were finishing out the rest of Watari's usual route home. "Thank you," he bumbled to Matsukawa once they were two streets from his house.

"It's nice to get the exercise in."

Those last few minutes were quiet, almost painfully so, and Watari didn't know if he felt relief or despair when he read "Watari" on the nameplate outside his house. They slowed to a stop outside the gate, and the libero turned to the taller boy. "Thanks again."

Matsukawa shook his head. He gestured to the house. "Get some sleep, Watari, and calm down. Do well on the first round of exams tomorrow." He grinned brightly then. "After all, I'll owe you a lunch in the end for it."

Finally, Watari felt the desire to laugh again. "I'll hold you to it," he said, happy that he sounded believably okay now. He headed inside, waving over his shoulder, and he took a calming breath with the door at his back.

He trudged upstairs and dropped his bag on the floor before collapsing face-first onto his bed. He groaned into his pillow, knowing he was a perfect mess. As luck would have it, his phone buzzed to interrupt his misery.

Watari grabbed his phone from his pocket and saw it was just a quick "good luck" from Yahaba about tomorrow. Watari thought of wishing him the same, but, considering Yahaba hadn't bothered with capitals or punctuation like usual, he figured Yahaba was busy…or distracted, if Hanamaki were around. Must be nice, having all the time one wanted to spend with a favorite person of their choosing, Watari whined to himself.

His phone buzzed again, and then a second time when he didn't look at it right away. It was Matsukawa this time:

_-_ _(*_ _￣Ｏ￣_ _)_ _ノ_

_-Yo. Look out your window._ _|ω_ _・）_

Watari blinked at his screen and sat up in bed. He hastily pushed the light blue curtains aside and craned his neck before opening the window to see better outside. Ah. He had a good view of Matsukawa from here. The younger teen laughed, his worries and jumbled thoughts ebbing. His phone buzzed again in his hand, and Watari embraced the new notions running through his head as he read Matsukawa's last text of the evening:

_-Good luck._ _＼（_ _★_ _´−_ _｀）人（_ _´_ _▽_ _｀_ _★_ _）／_ _See you Tuesday._ _(_ _￣_ _▽_ _￣_ _)_ _ノ_

He would. He'd see Matsukawa on Tuesday, on Thursday, Saturday, Sunday, and as often as he could during the break—and he'd see him after that, too, because the thought of not seeing Matsukawa was one of those "too large" things that had been thrown at Watari. But Matsukawa was wrong, as Watari knew _exactly_ how he'd handle it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -w- So much to say…but I think I'll let ch9 do most of the talking. ;3 I don't think there's anything wrong with the way Watari's life has gone before now, but it's not a bad thing, embracing change. Hanayaha…so cute. But Makki is such a baby sometimes when Yahaba's taken out of reach, *lol*. Mattsun in the shop is a cute thought, too. :3 My headcanon for Kyoutani's family finally emerges…! *keeps thinking of a [dogpile](http://le-amewzing.tumblr.com/post/124861641678/okay-so-i-have-this-ridiculous-headcanon-that)* Lastly, please tell me if you get the dumb joke of Watari giving the answer to a question as "forty-two." XD
> 
> Well! Thanks for reading, and please review! Ch8 was about as angsty as this story will get, and 9 will almost bring us to smooth sailing. See you there!
> 
> -mew! :D


	9. Those Kinds of Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's summer break, which means Watari and Matsukawa have even more opportunities to spend time together. Then again, there's also summer practice going on….

"Shinji! Breakfast!"

Watari jolted at the sound of his mother's voice and slid off his bed, book in hand as he hit his head on the floor and struggled to get up with his t-shirt falling over his face.

He heard his door open, and the first thing he saw with his shirt out of his eyes was the brown slacks of his mother, who stood in the doorway. "Honestly! Why the heck are you reading like that?" She bent and squinted at the cover. "I don't recognize that. Is that a book of yours?"

"No, it's a friend's," he answered, and he slid the rest of the way off his bed, finding leverage once he was on his back. He got up, checked to make sure the light novel was all right, and put it on the bed. "Sorry. Breakfast, right?"

His mother shook her head at him. "Yes. I don't care that it's summer vacation. Get up and eat at a regular time, Shinji." She took a step towards him and patted his cheek. "And no more reading upside–down like some bookish sloth. All the blood's rushed to your head, making your face red." She clicked her tongue at him and turned around, muttering something about teenage boys.

He grinned, despite having no audience. He checked his reflection in the long mirror hanging on the back of his closet door and saw his mother had somewhat missed the mark. With his dark complexion, he was more of a berry hue than plain old red, but that just made him more amused, and his grin widened as he thought back on earlier in the week.

Of course contrary to surprise, Watari _had_ done well on his first-semester finals, just this side of acing them. He'd been disappointed for a heartbeat, the first time he'd ever felt that way since he normally was fine with anything starting in the late eighties or higher, but Matsukawa had been impressed nevertheless. "Almost perfect scores on everything—cripes, I thought people like you were a myth," he'd told the libero mid-Sunday morning.

"It's because I put the effort in, as do Okino and Kindaichi, though there are people to whom it comes naturally. Kunimi and Yahaba are like that. Weren't Iwaizumi-san and Oikawa-san in advanced classes, too?" Watari had asked.

"Oikawa got stuff done pretty easily and as necessary, but Iwaizumi's a bit like you in that regard. Although the poor guy endured a lot more hair-pulling than you." He'd paused to glance over his shoulder as they'd gone into the kitchen at Matsukawa's house, almost as if checking to make sure Watari's amused smile that prefaced his laugh was there on his face.

Not one to disappoint, Watari had smiled and laughed. He'd taken a seat at the little two-seater table against the wall that was halfway between the kitchen and the dinner table in the dining space, and he'd watched as Matsukawa had pulled out this and that ingredient since he was making good on his deal of preparing lunch for Watari, even if it _was_ on the early side. "It's not as though I have much hair to pull… But what about you, Matsukawa-san?"

The older boy had held three fingers up over his shoulder. "Hanamaki, Shido, and I were the Average Trio. Not that I didn't take school seriously, but I did what I could and made sure to stay on the team and didn't worry about the rest."

Ah. Though Watari didn't feel like changing his studying habits, he couldn't deny he liked how at ease Matsukawa was. How he'd phrased it…it sounded comfortable. Or maybe Watari just liked how very Matsukawa it sounded.

They'd gotten to chatting about what the summer practice schedule would look like for the break, and Matsukawa was done with the food a little after that, partially because he'd actually done some prep work early that morning. And the lunch? It had made Watari's eyes pop—he enjoyed hard-boiled eggs, but he'd never had deviled eggs before. He'd gaped the whole time Matsukawa presented the spread and brought it over to the two-seater—how nice it was not to have to sit on the floor for once—and until he'd had the first bite. Then he'd forgotten his manners and scarfed another three eggs before realizing this was supposed to feed both of them.

"Ahm…sorry," the libero had squeaked after swallowing.

But Matsukawa had laughed and shaken his head. "Have as many as you want, Watari."

That hadn't been the _only_ thing they'd eaten, but it was definitely the highlight of the meal. He wasn't even sure if his favorite food had come up in conversation before, but whether Matsukawa knew or had taken an _extremely_ educated guess or just had the luck of the gods on his side, Watari was happy. That mood had stuck with Watari throughout the rest of the week, though he tried to tamp it down while at practice. The last thing he wanted was for the mood to disappear if Hoshimura or Yahaba noticed and started pestering him about it…although, Watari thought now as he traipsed downstairs to join his parents for breakfast, he suddenly had the feeling that maybe Yahaba wouldn't pester him. Hmm. Maybe it was due to the fact that Yahaba had other things (and people) to distract him?

Satisfied her son would stay on a decent schedule, Watari's mother let him slip away to his room after helping to clean up, and he took the small break to get more of his summer homework done. Practice was every other day on weekday mornings, so Watari had the time to complete everything, though he'd probably have it done well before the end of the break, at the rate he was going. It was only Thursday and Watari had fallen into a habit already, of racing through one subject before reading more of what Matsukawa had loaned him. He'd finished the other two short stories the other day, and he'd started the light novel early this morning and hadn't paused until his mother's interruption. So now he hurried through yet another subject so he could return to reading. After all, Matsukawa would have two free hours between his shift at the store and his delivery route.

Watari halted answering one of the response questions for English as his mind wandered to Matsukawa's schedule. He'd texted Matsukawa on Tuesday before heading over during the older boy's break, and it was a good thing he had, because Matsukawa had used some of that time for himself, getting ready for the rest of the night, so it wasn't as though it'd be the best idea for Watari to surprise him. Still, the libero knew he itched to do so anyway—likely a side-effect of the happy culinary surprise his friend had given him.

With homework out of the way, he picked up the light novel again and kicked back on his bed, returning to the world of _Wish You Were Here Yesterday_. The translation was very good, he thought, because it made a lot more sense than the movie had. Various characters were given the spotlight, and the book explored the complications and nuances of the relationships of people who were fairly normal except for one detail: they each could not survive without the presence of one other person. Through a single touch, life essence was exchanged between the two, so a person literally could not live without the other.

But, as romantic as it sounded at first, Watari thought he understood one of the reasons why Matsukawa liked the story. Not only was it a light fantasy, but the precariousness of human interaction was hard not to examine. The characters, especially the two leads, were interesting fellows, but there was this air that clung to a few of the partner pairs, that there might not be any caring between the two, romantic or platonic, as if they knew and saw each other as just another part of life. An existence in their life, but not a presence.

Watari grimaced at his observation. Did that even make much sense? He mused about explaining it to Matsukawa later and hoped his friend wouldn't be as lost as he felt just thinking things over.

He ate lunch with his mother when the time came and returned to reading once more after, but he ended up drowsing until he finally nodded off. Only when his computer chirped with a message from Hoshimura did Watari wake up, and he lost the rest of the day and a good part of the early evening to editing cuts of video one of Hoshimura's exes-turned-friends had at last sent him from their games against Senseki and Karasuno.

The shaven-haired boy dragged a hand over his tired face and noted when the clock on his computer screen turned to seven o'clock. Luckily, Hoshimura had signed off twenty minutes earlier, so Watari didn't have to figure out how to shake his friend before heading out and winding his way to the hardware store. When he saw Matsukawa around the back of the truck, he recalled having been distracted from the book twice in one day and internally cursed at himself.

"Good evening, Matsukawa-san," he greeted the black-haired teen.

Matsukawa nodded to him with that smile that forever verged on smirk. He patted the open bed of the truck and grinned when Watari hopped up to claim his usual spot. "Long day?" he asked when Watari yawned.

"Kind of. Early day, somewhat by accident. I started the light novel today."

Matsukawa raised his eyebrows, an invitation to continue.

"Don't worry—I finished the other short stories just yesterday." Watari blinked. "Oops. I probably should've brought that collection to return to you."

The taller boy shook his head. "Don't worry about it. You can read the others after the novel, if you want. I just wanted you to read those four stories I suggested, mostly." He grew quiet and darted his dark eyes between Watari and the small tower of boxes to his right.

Oh. "I enjoyed them," Watari offered, and he enjoyed that pleased look on Matsukawa's face at hearing that. "I'm astounded by how much I like the novel, though. I sped through so much of it…" He chuckled at himself. "To be honest, I'm not done, but I'm close to the end, and it's a little sad, knowing it's nearly over."

Matsukawa opened and closed his mouth. There was a twinkle in his eyes. "…just wait for the ending."

"Why? Is there a twist?"

Matsukawa's face morphed with that wolfish grin, and Watari could tell by the slight hike of his shoulders that he was suppressing a laugh.

"Oh, come on, Matsukawa-san! Can we at least talk about what I've read up to this point? Look, I've reached the start of the backstory for—"

But the older boy shook his head, and he playfully patted Watari's head. "Just read the ending," he insisted, and then he strolled inside to make the usual delivery.

* * *

Watari considered it a bit addling these days when Matsukawa teased him like that or let him chatter on and on for long stretches without interrupting, so he went to finish the book that night but found his mind wandering. It was frustrating.

More frustrating was practice the next day. Now that the team was far-enough removed from the stresses of exams, the sting of defeat ached again, and more than just Kyoutani and Kawasumi began pushing themselves. Ueno seemed to be in resilient, high spirits, though Hoshimura was a cloud hanging over the court.

"What's got him?" Kindaichi asked the captain and vice-captain during a quick break between warm-ups and the short practice matches of three-on-three Irihata-sensei wanted to get going.

"No clue," Watari said. The three of them and Kunimi, who stood nearby with mild interest, stared in Hoshimura's direction. The middle blocker had as dour an expression on his face as Terakado typically had. Watari glanced at Yahaba. "He seemed fine yesterday when we messaged. Ah! Which reminds me—I've just about finished stringing together the recordings he sent me, so I figure we can watch those next week during a club meeting."

Yahaba nodded and then glanced at Hoshimura with a shake of his head. "I think it's related to that, actually. Hoshimura mentioned something about owing that friend of his a favor now, and I don't think he's too keen on responding. He asked Ueno if he could hide out at his place, and I'm pretty sure he even eyed and debated asking _Kyoutani_ when Ueno said no."

The captain shut up and Kindaichi scurried away, Kunimi trotting behind him, when Hoshimura stalked in their direction. "Yahaba…," he started.

But Yahaba beat him to the punch. "Sorry, no." He patted Watari's shoulder then, too enthusiastically to the point of hurting, but the shaven-haired boy knew when to keep quiet. "Watari's coming over, and you know the rule at my house—one person over at a time."

Hoshimura groaned.

"You made your bed, Hosshi. Just sleep in it."

That reply wound up encouraging a few "missed serves" to Yahaba's head and back, but mild-mannered Hoshimura did his best to keep his decent reputation intact and "missed" only when Irihata-sensei wasn't looking and when Mizoguchi-san couldn't be sure the blocker had done it on purpose. By the time practice, which ran over by half an hour, ended for the day, the challenge was no longer avoiding Hoshimura but keeping him and the setter from killing each other.

" _Argh_ ," Yahaba snarled in the clubroom to Watari as the others left one by one. "I _really_ hope the next three weeks aren't the same crap, different day."

Watari waved to Okino and Kawasumi and Sanada, who were on their way out. Then the libero turned to his locker beside Yahaba's and raised his eyebrows. "It's tough when Hoshimura stoops to that level," he remarked.

"Thank gods Ueno isn't a complete child, but Hoshimura and Kyoutani…" Yahaba groaned and banged his head against his locker door. "Watari."

"Hmm?"

"Please find a time-travel machine and prevent me from becoming captain."

The libero, in the past, would've fretted over this kind of attitude from his friend. Yet, now, he realized this was Yahaba's captaincy, and it wasn't a bad one. So… "Nope. You're doing fine, Yahaba, honest." He raised his eyebrows higher, waiting for Yahaba to peek at him. "Give it a few days. Things will be back to normal, captain."

"I guess…" The brunet straightened up then and put the rest of his things in his bag. He closed his locker just as Watari finished gathering his own things. "Hey. The invite still stands. You coming over?"

Watari paused briefly. Just because it was summer break, he wasn't _trying_ to see Matsukawa every day…but having the option was enticing. On the other hand, Watari figured it wasn't exactly a question with Yahaba. "Do you even want me over, or are you just making good on what you said to Hoshimura to make sure he doesn't end up at your house?"

Yahaba laughed while the vice-captain checked to make sure he had overnight supplies and swiftly texted his mother. "A little from column A, a little from column B." He grabbed hold of Watari's arm and pulled him out of the clubroom after, and Watari flashed back to being pushed to the apothecary about two weeks prior.

Yahaba's home was nice and quite different from Matsukawa's, modern and pristine and black-and-white. Watari had been over countless times, more so since the end of their first year, when he and Yahaba had first really become friends, sometime after Kyoutani's absence from club. But the condo was nice, if a bit big for just Yahaba and his parents.

Predictably, they found Yahaba's father still at work and his mother at her baby grand piano, preparing for a summer-end concert. Music-focused though she was, she did pause long enough to mark her sheet music and point her pencil to a plate of snacks she'd left out for the boys on the kitchen counter, but then the athletes scarpered upstairs to Yahaba's room so she could have some peace.

Watari's phone buzzed, and his pulse sped up, but it was simply his mother confirming she'd seen his message and was fine with it so long as he didn't impose too long and came home the next day. He frowned at his screen but locked the device and tossed it into his bag.

"Well, aren't you about as happy as Hoshimura."

Watari pursed his lips and settled Yahaba with a look. "I don't have his kinds of problems."

"Sure, sure." Yahaba whistled and swiveled in his desk chair. "Although, you asked if _I_ wanted _you_ over. Yet you're the one who looks as if he's expecting a text from a certain someone~"

Though he wasn't certain he liked Yahaba hitting the nail on the head, he couldn't deny how his pulse picked up at the insinuation. He _did_ enjoy interacting with Matsukawa…and maybe he'd become a bit spoiled these past few months. But there wasn't anything wrong with feeling that way, was there?

Yahaba blatantly eyed him and sighed. "Ah, you go ahead and take the first bath, Watari."

Watari blinked, and a friendly smile bloomed on his face at Yahaba's clear topic switch. "I'll be quick."

"Take your time. Just mind the duck shelf!"

"As always…."

* * *

His dreams were filled with rubber ducks, bad jokes, and classical music. But that was a given at Yahaba's place.

The two friends had whiled away the day and night considering the roster for their upcoming Spring High prelims entry and easily getting sidetracked by Yahaba's history homework, a subject which Watari had finished already. Then the music downstairs, dulled by the soundproofed floors and walls, had come to a stop, Yahaba's father arrived, and the four of them had dinner.

Watari and Yahaba slept in the following morning, though the odd dreams woke the libero first. He remained on his back for a few minutes, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the silence of the late morning. After a moment, he heard the telltale plinking of keys that told him Yahaba's mother was back to work.

His thoughts wandered then, to visiting Matsukawa's house. Yahaba's place was nearly always filled with classical music because of his mother's occupation as a concert pianist and his father's work heading the finances for a friend's accomplished ballet company. Watari's house was run-of-the-mill, with the sounds of the television often running through the house, though Watari liked listening to some old rock. But Matsukawa's house? It was super quiet since he tended to visit when Matsukawa's family was out, though Matsukawa liked to indulge in his weird music tastes about half the time when Watari was over, even if only to see what kind of reaction he'd get out of the younger boy. Thinking on it now, Watari had to stifle a snicker. Matsukawa's playfulness was…something else, all right.

Yahaba yawned to Watari's right, and the bed creaked as Yahaba turned to face his friend down on the floor in the spare futon. "'Morning."

"Good morning."

"…you sound pretty coherent."

"I've been up for a little while."

Blankets rustled, and Watari could picture Yahaba, bundled up since the AC forever blasted at his place, popping his head out of his nest and peering over the bed's edge at the shaven-haired teen. "Didn't sleep well?"

"No, the opposite. Stunning, when you consider I know the backstories for the family of rubber ducks in your bathroom."

"Hey. You sat there, rapt as you listened to Michiyasu and Noriko's harrowing tale of coming together. Kuniharu and Hirako wouldn't exist without those brave ducks."

"That was at the end of winter in our first year, Yahaba, the first time I stayed over. I couldn't _stop_ listening because I couldn't believe someone our age collected rubber ducks, let alone made up elaborate stories about them."

There was a second of silence, and then both of them snickered at the memory. "You got me there, but I don't care. I like what I like, you like what you like—it'd be insane if everyone walking around was the same person." Yahaba sighed, a groggy kind of exhalation. "So, if you slept well…"

Watari had a quip on his tongue, about keeping to the schedule his mom wished, but he didn't say that. "I was listening to your mom play."

Another second of silence, long enough to hear the piano's melody waft up the stairs. "Ah, yeah. I find it comforting, you know. I can't take a steady diet of it, hence treasuring the _really_ nice headphones Dad bought me for my birthday two years ago, but it's something she's always done, even in my earliest memory. So I guess…nostalgia?" He paused again, and a strong thrum reached them as the song picked up slightly. Watari could feel Yahaba's eyes on him in spite of the darkness of the room. "Why? Does it bother you? You've never mentioned it before."

"Oh, no, I like it. It's different. I was just thinking about taste in music."

"Yeah? What's Matsukawa-san's like?"

Watari grumbled. "Thanks for letting me steer things, Yahaba."

"Hey, I wanted to run to the finish line, not stroll there, Watari." His voice was closer now, meaning Yahaba was leaning further over the edge. A tiny part of Watari knew he wouldn't be disappointed if his friend _fell_ off that edge. "So spill."

He didn't. Not unlike before when Yahaba had asked for specifics, Watari preferred to keep the details to himself. But, also as before, Watari knew he couldn't keep quiet and expect to sate the setter's curiosity at the same time. "It's…different," he said at last. "Funky instrumentals that are borderline easy-listening."

"Ahh, I see." The bed creaked, and Yahaba's voice was further away; he was lying back in bed properly once more. "Hanamaki-san's into a lot of techno crap, some far too industrial to be called music, really. But," he added more nicely, "sometimes he finds collaborations between bands he likes and bands I like."

Watari shifted his head on his pillow. "It _did_ come as a shock, you know."

"Me telling you about him and me?"

"Not that I've ever stopped to think about it long enough to suspect, but yeah."

"It's not an 'opposites attract' thing, if you're wondering. He and I are equally likely to lose our cool, and I've been known to be laidback."

"Yeah, you had Kyoutani going for a while."

"Yep." Yet another pause. "I take it you've been splitting your time between homework and Matsukawa-san?"

"Feeling lonely?" Watari smiled.

"No," the captain obviously lied. "Just curious as to what you two get up to."

"Talking, mostly. Reading, too—ah, he helped me study. Games, movies, TV, walking anywhere… Running errands and window-shopping. Normal things." He refrained from mentioning the deviled eggs. That was one of those details that Watari, remembering something Matsukawa had said, decided to be selfish about and keep for himself.

This time Yahaba was silent for two minutes, which made Watari nervous as to what ridiculous things were running through that occasionally flighty head of his. But, if he had any comments, Yahaba withheld them, and instead he turned on the overhead wall light without warning. The next thing the libero knew, Yahaba had his phone out and was checking his inbox. "Ha!" he laughed, swinging his legs over the bed's edge to sit up.

"What?"

"Hoshimura _actually_ went so far as to make Kyoutani his victim." Yahaba showed Watari, who had to wince in the sudden onslaught of brightness, the slew of profanity-riddled texts from their ace. The captain beamed. "One public word of rebuke to Hoshimura come Monday, and Kyoutani should be docile for a few days in thanks." He sighed happily, and Watari shook his head at him. This devious side, too, jived with Hanamaki's, the libero contemplated.

Watari believed he might head home around lunchtime, but Yahaba felt particularly lazy today, and, considering practice had been so tiring the day before, Watari relented and stuck around. They got caught up watching a broadcast of a foreign volleyball tournament, but Yahaba changed the channel when his mother shot him a stern look at the disruption he made every time the setters pulled off moves he had yet to achieve. So they switched to some music program that looked to be a competition between dueling pianos, but that pulled Yahaba's mother from her bench a second time—only, this time, mother and son alike railed against the supposedly sloppy techniques of both pianists.

Before he knew it, it was close to early dinnertime, and Watari knew his own family would expect him home soon. Yahaba whined that he could stay for dinner, too, no worries. "Mom likes feeding you," he told the shaven-haired boy in the doorway to his room, watching his friend pick up his things and shoulder his bag. "You eat most anything put in front of you."

"That's called 'having good manners,' Yahaba," Watari corrected, rolling his eyes.

Yahaba's phone chimed then, and his tune changed. "Yes, it is, and let me use more manners to show you out."

Watari led the descent downstairs. "What's got you—"

"Who do you think?" Yahaba retorted, scrunching his nose up at him. But he couldn't keep his lips from curving up as they reached the foot of the stairs.

Hanamaki. Of course. "Why do I even bother asking?" Watari sighed. Yet he didn't mind, not really—how could he when it put Yahaba in such a good mood?

They made no further plans at the door, but Yahaba reminded him about the game footage for the coming week. Around the corner from the condominium complex, Watari saw Hanamaki coming up, carrying plastic bags that were dripping and appeared to be holding sodas if not also ice-creams. Hanamaki grinned at him and saluted in passing, and then he hurried to Yahaba's.

The libero checked the time on his phone once he reached the edge of Yahaba's neighborhood. Hmm. It would be six before long… And he'd heard nothing from his parents about being home by then…

Before he could think too hard on it, Watari caught the bus and headed towards Matsukawa's house. That wasn't his ultimate destination, however, as he slowed to a stop outside the window for Sekitan Apothecary.

He peeked inside but didn't see Matsukawa right away. Still, he entered and mindlessly scanned the products up at the front of the store, the sunglasses, the sugar-free gum, the spare phone chargers—

"Watari?"

Even before Matsukawa spoke his name, Watari had sensed the larger male coming up the aisle. The shorter teen smiled instinctively. "Bad time?" he asked, and his smile faltered, seeing Matsukawa rather blindsided. He knew he hadn't been banned from the store, but was it so bad if Watari ever set foot here?

Matsukawa closed his mouth, which had popped open in a small "o." He shook his head but took a step closer to Watari. "I'm still working."

"You've got"—he picked up Matsukawa's hand to read the older boy's watch since his phone was in his pocket—"about five minutes before the day's over. Is it all right if I wait for you? I'll stay out of the way, promise." It dawned on him how presumptuous he sounded, so he grabbed a packet of gum from the shelf beside him. "If I buy this, that makes me a customer, right? And customers can stay."

The older teen's shoulders slackened, and he gave Watari's a hand a squeeze before letting go and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I dunno… I don't mind," he added when Watari frowned, "but the end of my shift means—"

"Itchan! Where'd you go?"

Though Matsukawa wasn't a stranger to such words, he cursed under his breath and took another step closer to Watari, so that the endcap might hide both of them. Unfortunately, the opposite happened, and the person looking for Matsukawa came and found him.

"Why do you even bother hiding that big frame of yours in our tiny store?" the willowy woman asked, and she cocked her head to one side at Watari while Matsukawa groaned. "Friend?"

"Watari Shinji," Watari replied automatically, bowing his head respectfully. He'd only seen her in passing and in pictures, so she didn't exactly need an introduction. Nevertheless—

"Matsukawa Kako, Issei's older sister," she said somewhat flatly, though Watari didn't get the sense that she intended any rudeness. Kako faced Matsukawa and held up a hand, splaying her fingers. "Itchan. Five more minutes. I own your butt for five more minutes. Go move the pallets from out back to inside the back door." She returned her attention to Watari while her brother rolled his eyes.

"I'd like to buy this," the younger boy coughed, holding up the gum.

She stared for another two seconds, shrugged, and walked to the counter.

Matsukawa gave him an apologetic look. His mouth was bunched up, a squiggled line across the bottom of his face. No doubt he had a million things to say: "I'm sorry about her," "This is why you haven't met my family before now," "I will blitz through five minutes even if only to escape here," and "Never call me 'Itchan,' _promise_ ," to name a few.

Witnessing his discomfort, Watari shook his head. "I'll just buy this and keep my head down while I look through—" Well, there weren't any magazines in this place. But… "Maps. There. I'll look through the maps." He laughed nervously.

But that put his friend at ease, and Matsukawa managed a chuckle. "She's about as bad as she seems, so she's not terrible," Matsukawa reassured him.

"No, it's… I just didn't think she'd be your height," the shorter boy confessed. Really. That'd been intimidating.

Matsukawa leaned in towards him, hovering a bit over the shaven-haired boy and making Watari look up at him. He grinned impishly when Watari gave him an exasperated look. "…you're a good height, Watari."

"What's that supposed to mean…?!"

"Itchan! Hey! What did I tell you?" Kako called from the counter.

Matsukawa straightened up. But his eyes bored holes into Watari, so his meaning was clear: "Please be patient."

Watari beamed at him and hoped that offered some comfort. In the meantime, Watari felt he learned some interesting things in those five minutes. He'd never imagined Matsukawa would have a nickname, Oikawa's "Mattsun" aside, and Kako…was assuredly cut from the Matsukawa cloth. She and her brother were equally taciturn, and she didn't mince words when explaining things about medication and cures to customers, nor did she cough up her smile as readily as her brother might. In a word, she was stern. But there was a soft edge to her—not unlike Matsukawa, though he showed his more often.

Kako was complacent once the hour struck, and she caught her brother's apron as he took it off and tossed it to her. "Have fun," she called without even looking up from a shipment order as the two teens left.

"May I at least ask?" Watari prompted as they made their way to Matsukawa's house.

Matsukawa pouted but rolled his eyes. "Apparently she called me 'Itchan' when I was first born and has never stopped since. Mom and Dad told me I was confused for a year or two and didn't respond to 'Issei' for a while because of that. Siblings," he growled, but the tips of his ears were reddish, too, so he wasn't truly upset. He shook his head and ran a hand through his curls.

Watari wanted to do the same, if only to calm him, but he quelled the impulse. "It's nice, though. I think it shows you guys are close in your own way. I'm envious." He smiled when Matsukawa looked down at him, but the taller boy appeared tame at that, and he took his steps closer to Watari as they arrived at the old house.

"You've got your duffle with you," Matsukawa pointed out as they kicked their shoes off and went upstairs.

"Ah, yeah… I can probably only stay for so long before Mom bugs me to come home. Impromptu sleepover at Yahaba's," he finished when Matsukawa still looked confused.

The other boy nodded. "Guess that means you haven't finished the book yet."

Oh, of course. "No, not yet. But soon."

Matsukawa smiled gently. "Don't rush through it. And it's not as though we _have_ to talk about it right now," he stated, though that mischievous twinkle was back in his eyes when Watari huffed at that, obviously referencing how Watari wanted to discuss the story so far. Instead, he picked up a game case from beside his TV. "I've got a new game I borrowed from Hanamaki. Want to be my Player Two?"

The libero shelved his annoyances over putting the light novel off yet _again_ and gave Matsukawa a befuddled look. "Don't you mean your co-player? I'm not much of a Player Two."

That twinkle turned into a gleam, but Matsukawa didn't comment. He merely chuckled to himself instead.

* * *

Sunday belonged to Matsukawa, too, in the end, when Watari woke to an early-morning text asking to hang. The light novel was still on Watari's mind, but it wasn't as if he'd never finish it, so he went over to Matsukawa's with a clear conscience, and the duo ended up caught up in Hanamaki's videogame for a second time.

Watari, himself, ended caught up in practice and finishing homework and helping everyone else stay on top of theirs over the next few days. "Kyoutani and Terakado might even pass their assignments in on time," he breathed as he dropped to the cushion beside Matsukawa on Friday night while they settled in the path of the fan Matsukawa had installed in his window. Though it wasn't as hot as it had been lately, the late-August humidity was wearisome, and temperatures were expected to rise over the weekend. The shaven-haired teen was rather glad when Matsukawa didn't even move to grab his game controller, opting to flip his TV on instead.

"You'll make an honest student of Mad Dog yet," Matsukawa quipped, leaning back against his closet door and sliding his eyes to the right, towards Watari. He'd placed the cushions back against the wall so they could lean and enjoy the circulated air without effort.

"Ha, I doubt it. Just keeping Mizoguchi-san's blood pressure down is the attainable goal." Watari didn't have anything else to add at the moment, so conversation dwindled, but that wasn't uncomfortable. Unlike with Yahaba or his other friends, Watari didn't feel required to keep up the dialogue between him and Matsukawa, though he knew Matsukawa didn't mind him talking by himself for long periods with few interjections from the taller boy.

Matsukawa clicked around, though Watari couldn't decipher if he was searching for something to watch in particular. He settled on a comedy, one that Watari watched with his parents, and the room grew quiet save for the whir of the fan's blades and the show's dialogue and laugh tracks.

The humidity and the quiet and the overall comfortable atmosphere made Watari's eyelids heavy, so he pulled his knees up to his chest and crossed his arms atop them so he could rest his chin. But at some point he genuinely nodded off, and he awoke when he felt fabric against his temple. He sat up straight, as if jolted by electricity, and apologized to Matsukawa. "I— You could've said something," he spluttered. Was the room more humid than before? Or was it just his face that felt bizarrely warm?

But Matsukawa glanced at his shoulder and at Watari, a bemused smirk on his face. For a brief second, the raven-haired boy's eyes widened, as if to say "I didn't even notice." But then Matsukawa must've changed his mind, and his eyes crinkled, somewhat charmed, like "I don't mind, so you're welcome to again." And he snickered when Watari, embarrassed, shoved him in response.

There was a knock on Matsukawa's door then, and Kako slid it open, announcing herself with "Itchan~" She held up a bowl of rice crackers. "Mom had them sitting in the fridge, so they're perfect right now. Share with Shinji," she ordered, but she meant well and came and placed the food in the middle of the table. Kako straightened up, hands on hips, and eyed Watari, rather as she'd done when they'd first met. "Dinner's on the late side at our house, but you're welcome to stay for it, you know." And there! The twist of her lips that was reminiscent of Matsukawa's smirk—it fought her for a second before she smiled wryly and fixed her eyes on her brother. "I'm sure our parents would like to meet this friend who isn't Takahiro."

Matsukawa's eyes clouded over briefly, as if he were trying—and failing—to transcend the conversation. "Thanks for the food," he said curtly in an effort to usher her out of there.

She left without another hint and closed the door behind her. Watari looked between the door and his friend, who reached for the rice crackers and passed the bowl to him. "Your family gets their fill of Hanamaki-san, don't they?"

The annoyance on that tanned face vanished, and Matsukawa suppressed such a large laugh, he had to hold his sides, nearly doubled-over. "That's one way of putting it…!"

Watari felt some odd semblance of relief at having passed off that awkward moment with Matsukawa with Kako's fortunate interruption. The rice crackers held their attention for a while, too, until Matsukawa ate the last one. Watari debated going downstairs to fetch more—and handling Matsukawa's parents in addition to his sister, should they be home soon—when Matsukawa's phone rang.

Clearly Matsukawa hadn't been expecting a call, because he shrugged at Watari. But he answered it, and Sawauchi's chipper face popped up via video chat. "Yo, Matsukawa!" He tilted his head to one side and peered more closely at the screen. "Hey, who's that with you? I can see an ear and a bald head…"

"Hi, Sawauchi-san," Watari said with a quick wave, figuring there was no harm in saying hello. Not to mention the sudden exhausted expression on Matsukawa's face meant the older boy wasn't up for a chat. "What's up?" Watari asked.

Sawauchi blinked at what probably seemed like an unlikely pair, but he didn't comment. "Yuda and I are gonna be home this weekend, and I already touched based with Shido and Hanamaki. We were thinking of hitting the public pool. You in?" He turned his head to Watari. "You, too, Watari. Yahaba's coming along. The more, the merrier." Though he wasn't as peppy as Shido or Yuda could be, Sawauchi definitely had an infectious grin, and it was hard to say no.

Still, Watari sneaked a glance at Matsukawa—only to find Matsukawa sneaking a glance at him, too. That made his pulse quicken and him laugh. "Yeah, it sounds like fun," Watari answered. He wondered if he'd done so for the both of them.

"Great! And, hey, Matsukawa," Sawauchi drawled. "You know, you should invite Kako-san, too. I'm sure she can take a day off every now and then—"

"No," Matsukawa stated with a pointedly irritated expression, and his thumb hovered over the "END" button for half a second while Sawauchi tried to convince him otherwise, and then Sawauchi's face was gone. Matsukawa sighed, stopping only when he noticed Watari staring with a small smile. He lifted one eyebrow and sank the other, Matsukawa-speak for "What?"

But Watari thought it best to keep his observation to himself. For all Matsukawa griped about Kako, he cared…but Watari didn't think he needed to comment that it was cute, how Matsukawa protected her in his own way.

"Are you sure you want to go?" Matsukawa asked, putting his phone on silent before placing it out of reach on the table.

"Yeah, why not? That's what summer's all about, isn't it? The pool, the beach, fireworks, scary stories—all that. Like school trips."

"…yeah. But you've never experienced an overnight trip outside of club with these guys…."

* * *

"OPERATION: COOL-OFF—COMMENCE!"

Yahaba turned to the other four as Hanamaki and Yuda paraded into the outdoor public pool area Sunday afternoon, arms linked and louder than most of the preschoolers present with their mothers. " _Do something about that_ ," he hissed, red from head to toe, and not from sunburn.

Shido and Watari shook their heads apologetically, giving up the losing battle when they saw one. Matsukawa and Sawauchi rolled their eyes. "There's no taming that once it's started," Sawauchi reminded the setter as he and Shido pulled up the rear.

Yahaba threw his towel over his head as Hanamaki turned and waved to him, motioning to the good spot he and Yuda found by one corner of the deep end. The captain grumbled something incoherent as he fell back and padded in his duck-printed flip-flops alongside Watari and Matsukawa, but Watari chuckled at the sight, because really Yahaba was attempting to hide a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

The four alum and two seniors did indeed take over the few chairs Hanamaki and Yuda scouted out for them, and Yuda and Shido volunteered to take turns watching over everyone's belongings, so Yuda stayed behind first, as he was the only one who had yet to apply sunscreen. Hanamaki and Yahaba ran off ahead of the rest.

"More like a mother chasing after her child," Sawauchi remarked as he, Shido, Matsukawa, and Watari watched the spectacle. And somehow Sawauchi's point rang clear when Hanamaki jumped into the pool, making a splash that drenched Yahaba, and then reached up and yanked the unsuspecting captain into the water with him.

"Well, if you can't beat 'em," Shido said with a bark of a laugh, and he hopped in after the ditzy couple. Sawauchi went to the edge to lower himself in, but he slipped on the side and dropped like a dead weight into the water. When he popped back up, his dark hair, a tuft of which normally stuck up just in the front, was in complete disarray, full of sea urchin spikes that made him resemble Iwaizumi.

Watari felt a familiar stare on the top of his head, and he looked up to find Matsukawa's friendly smile. The older boy motioned for him to go first, so Watari unzipped his light, short-sleeve summer hoodie and tossed it on top of his drawstring backpack beside Yuda's chair, and they entered the water.

Both the pool and the perimeter were crowded. It was pure luck that Hanamaki hadn't landed on anyone when he'd jumped in. The group of friends tried to stay together, because that had been the point of _arriving_ together, but Sawauchi was the first to wade off when he eyed a pretty girl with dark hair like Kako's, and Shido chased after him, reminding him of a previous incident that hadn't panned out well for the former middle blocker.

"So Kako-san is Sawauchi-san's type?" Watari asked Matsukawa, and Hanamaki nodded from his other side.

"It's never gonna happen, though," Hanamaki stated, and he gestured with a snort to the dark look that crossed Matsukawa's face then.

Watari fretted, seeing that expression, and he waved to Yuda to pass him the inflatable beach ball Hanamaki had brought along. The freckled guy threw it, Watari bumped it as came naturally to the libero, and Hanamaki spiked it. It lightly smacked Matsukawa in the shoulder, but the former blocker's smirk returned when he served it into Hanamaki's face, and Hanamaki stumbled backwards into Yahaba, sending both of them tumbling underwater.

Matsukawa faced Watari then, and his features were softened. "Thanks," he said.

Watari beamed at him. "No prob—" He stopped just as a squirt of water caught him in the face, and Yahaba narrowed his eyes at his friend, hands clasped and poised for another attack. Watari's patience thinned because of that and the weather, and he uncharacteristically shoved Yahaba's head under, thus beginning a stream of childish antics from boys who should've known better.

Their commotion caught Shido and Sawauchi's attention, but Shido got the ball up when they neared, so the ridiculousness cooled to a fun few rounds of pseudo-pool volleyball. Yuda mewled from the sidelines about joining in, and he got to switch places after Shido and Sawauchi grilled their fair-skinned friend about reapplying sunscreen after. All in all, fun was had, more than Watari had expected, though he knew he'd set the bar low after Matsukawa's warning about hanging out with the lot of them.

"Yahaba and Hanamaki-san are well-behaved today, too," Watari commented to Matsukawa when the two of them took a break once more than an hour had passed since their arrival. They sat in the pool chairs with everyone's things, so Yuda, Shido, and Sawauchi could play, and Hanamaki and Yahaba meandered towards the far end of the pool.

Matsukawa snorted from beneath the umbrella attached to his chair, his cheek cupped in one palm. He pointed with his other hand. "Wait for it," he told Watari.

The libero followed where he gestured. Yahaba and Hanamaki were talking by the corner directly opposite where Watari and Matsukawa sat, and Hanamaki boldly placed his hands on Yahaba's waist. Yahaba, after an odd beat, leaned in to him, and they kissed.

"No shame," Matsukawa said, but there was laughter in his voice, especially at Watari turning his head away. "Ah, it got better. Watari, look."

Doubtful, Watari trusted him regardless and saw that the alumni trio had snuck up on the couple, and they laughed at how blindingly red Yahaba and Hanamaki turned, understanding they had an audience. Even Watari couldn't help himself, and he laughed along with Matsukawa, too. After a minute, he had that pleasant sensation of goosebumps and a pinpoint spot of warmth, and he knew Matsukawa was watching him again. He tried to turn his head slowly, nonchalantly, but Matsukawa chuckled when their eyes met. "What?" Watari asked, not sure what to make of his senpai's amusement.

But Matsukawa shook his head. He reached for Watari, who'd put his hoodie back on to dry off for a bit, and pulled the yellow hood up over the shaven-haired boy's head. He used the diversion to slip back into the pool, and he sent sprinkles of water at Watari, careful not to hit the belongings and wetting Watari's toes. His smile, mischievous, also had a hint of "Come on back in."

Watari made a face and shook his head.

Yet Matsukawa wouldn't take no for an answer. He swam to the other graduates and came up behind Yuda. Then the black-haired male hooked his elbows under poor Yuda's arms and dragged him away, scooching him out of the pool and motioning for Watari's return.

Watari tried to apologize, but Yuda waved him off, caught up in the merriment. "It's all right, Watari! It's best to give the kid his candy when he's this greedy." He guffawed at his own metaphor, much to Watari's embarrassment.

Still…the metaphor seemed appropriate, given the gleam in Matsukawa's eyes. Not to mention the fact that he pulled Watari in once the libero was close enough. Of course Watari lost his footing, but he didn't go under. Matsukawa's firm grip on his upper arm made certain of that.

And Watari had a hard time shaking the feeling of Matsukawa's hand on him even after those fingers pulled away.

The group of friends stayed and played for almost another two hours, but Sawauchi and Yahaba were the first ones to cave to their hunger, and Yuda suggested they grab lunch together. "If we can all settle on one place," the freckled teen pointed out as he dried his strawberry-blond hair.

Shido deflated the beach ball with a frown. "Ah, I can't… I promised Shimada-san I'd take the evening shift… It was the only way I could get the day shift off!" he exclaimed when Yuda and Hanamaki made faces at him.

"Maybe grab takeout?" Yahaba offered. He tugged on his hair, which began curling as it air-dried. "Honestly, I'm dying of hunger, but I also want to go home and shower." Hanamaki mumbled something to him, but Yahaba rolled his eyes and smacked his hands away, and the couple resumed being on their best behavior.

Matsukawa's hair, too, was curlier than normal, though he'd also been the last one out of the pool. He threw his towel over his head and halfheartedly patted his hair. "I'm fine with anything," he mumbled.

Sawauchi groaned, so Watari piped up, "Why not the family restaurant up the street? They're fast, so it'd be like takeout."

That was the general consensus, so they spilled out of the pool just at the right time, as more families arrived. Matsukawa and Watari dawdled behind the others as the group went to the restaurant, but their friends didn't mind or didn't notice—Watari couldn't be sure.

Either way, Watari enjoyed the alone time with Matsukawa.

But, after another few minutes, Matsukawa still had his towel on his head. He grunted and stopped a few yards away from the restaurant as the rest headed inside, and Watari stopped with him.

"Here, let me," Watari said, bolder than he thought he could be. He reached up and toweled Matsukawa's hair dry, and he laughed when Matsukawa simply bent down for better access. He put Watari in mind of a large puppy, an idea bolstered by the softness of the few curls that poked out from underneath the towel and tickled Watari's fingers as they brushed by. Yuda was right. Matsukawa really was a kid sometimes—

Watari's train of thought screeched to a halt when Matsukawa's fingers came up and stilled the other boy's hands. The touch was gentle, but… Watari hadn't noticed before, at Sekitan Apothecary, and he hadn't noticed in the pool, either. But Matsukawa's hands were sturdy yet surprisingly soft, despite his hard work.

A kid. Not.

"Watari."

The shaven-haired teen jolted and snapped back to his senses. He took his hands off Matsukawa's head, as if caught red-handed, as the older boy straightened up, though it was another second before Matsukawa's hands, which had slid down to hold on to Watari's wrists, pulled away. "Sorry, sorry! Shall we eat?" he babbled, and he picked up the pace, though Matsukawa stuck close by, and the libero spent the rest of the outing noting how absurdly hypersensitive he was with Matsukawa around.

* * *

_Wish You Were Here Yesterday_ would be put off no longer, Watari decided Wednesday morning. He'd been so focused since Sunday on avoiding distractions that Watari had been a model vice-captain on Monday and had completed his summer homework on Tuesday, and his efficient vibes spread out to the rest of his team that morning, so the team not only ended practice timely but ended a whole ten minutes early. The take-no-hostages, get-it-done mindset was a happy accident, but Watari was determined.

He got home, took a speedy shower, made his mother gawp at him when he turned down a pre-lunch snack, and tucked in to finish the light novel.

…twenty minutes later, he was done and had this strange euphoric sense, mostly from completion. But he reread the last chapter twice more, and something he'd posited but hadn't explored came back to the forefront of his mind.

So, too, did the past weekend, but Watari tucked the memories aside when his mother ordered him downstairs to eat a proper lunch.

After that, ticking down the hours until Matsukawa was done at work became the waiting game of the century for Watari. He tried to preoccupy his mind with his favorite puzzle games on his computer, with doing a smidge of receiving by bumping his volleyball against his wall, with reviewing his homework three times to make sure he'd truly finished everything—

After three o'clock, he sent Matsukawa a short text, asking if he was up for a visit. Five minutes later, Matsukawa's response came:

_-_ _(_ _｡_ _-_-_ _｡_ _)_ _人_ _(_ _｡_ _-_-_ _｡_ _)_

Watari chuckled, taking some courage from that, and hustled downstairs to get his shoes on.

His mother heard the commotion and emerged from the first-floor hall closet, vacuum in hand. "Going out _again_ , Shinji?" she asked, eyebrows raised at him in the vestibule.

"Yep. I'll be back before dinner." He stood but stopped when he saw her frown, recognizing he'd been rather brusque in assuming he could head out without permission. "…sorry. Mind if I go out?"

She sighed and crossed her arms in front of her chest, not caring that she wrinkled her nice floral dress in the process. "You've been out so often this summer, outside of practice. Shigeru isn't sick of you yet?"

He couldn't help laughing at her frankness. "No." Which was true, so far as he knew.

"It's not even Shigeru, is it? Is there something I should know?"

Watari flashed back to the few times he'd gotten into trouble as a toddler. His mother always had seemed to know what he'd done, no matter what—and her perceptiveness had _not_ dulled. "It's my senpai," he confessed. "The one who's given me a few rides home. He's a good friend." Also true. And yet…

"Fine, fine. But if I'd known you be seeing him so much, I would've asked for his info sooner." She held out her hand and flapped her fingers at him, demanding his phone.

Watari relented, because there wasn't any harm in it, and he pulled up Matsukawa's contact, copied it, and pasted it into a text for her. She pressed the button to send it to herself, and then she was placated. "So I can go now?" her son tried a second time.

She curled her index finger at him, those warm gray eyes so piercing on her face where they were so soft set in his. But she smiled warmly after he kissed her cheek. "Be back before dinner," she reminded him, and she closed the door after he left.

After practice that morning, he didn't want to run, and jogging wasn't good for the joints, but he couldn't help speed-walking into town and past the hardware store, past the bus stop, past the countless blocks and streets, glimpsing the mustard yellow awning, glimpsing the other Taisho-era houses in this traditional neighborhood, hurrying through the short front gate, hurrying to the old-looking front door—

He stopped, caught his breath, slowed his pulse, and knocked. Matsukawa must've been nearby on the first floor, because the door opened promptly.

"Good evening," Watari said, a smile curving his lips up automatically. He caught sight of this in the glass of some of the photos hanging by the stairs and made a conscious effort to calm down.

"Good practice today? You're not as tired," Matsukawa remarked after he let Watari in to his room. He chuckled when the libero paced a bit before settling on one of the cushions by the table.

"No. I mean, yes. Yes, a good practice. No, I'm not tired." Ah, a mix of emotions was bubbling up inside Watari, but he needed to sort them out first. He took another breath and smirked triumphantly. "I finished the book."

Matsukawa's eyes widened. His smile was a slow prize. "I wondered when you would." He eyed Watari up and down, and then he turned his head to stifle his snicker. "But you forgot to bring it, and you forgot the short story collection again…!"

Well, that helped Watari deflate and calm down. "Hey! I _will_ read the other short stories…!" he retorted, though he couldn't deny feeling stupid at having left _Wish You Were Here Yesterday_ at home. He knew exactly where it was, too: closed, on top of his comforter, right in the middle of his bed.

But the taller boy sat on the cushion to his left and leaned his elbows on the table. He motioned with his head, like "Go on."

"So. The ending."

Matsukawa's eyes did the crinkling thing again, so Watari focused on the woodgrain of the table.

"It…was excellent," he finished, albeit anticlimactically. Truthfully, he was still trying to figure out what it was he had to say about the ending, without embarrassing himself. The ending stuck with him, which was why he'd reread it, wondering if rereading it might lessen its impact on him. But that hadn't worked; it'd just left a bigger impression on him. The light novel and the short stories…reading stories of people unable to live without each other, of angels falling in love, of the important things happening in the background but happening nevertheless—it was as if life played out like love, building up and passing just like that. Or was it the other way around?

"Watari?"

"Ah, right. Um…" He decided to stick with the basics. "Ay's parents, his fathers…it felt like circumstance at first, but it wasn't, was it?"

"I don't think you need me to tell you so." There was a lilt to his voice, a hint of laughter.

"His biological father and his dad's partner—there was duty there, and friendship, but his dad's partner had helped raise Ay. And Ay… Ay's grown by the end. But they were still together. It might've been circumstance that brought them together, but choice kept them together." Watari chuckled at himself, understanding how clichéd that sounded. "It really ended things nicely, though. I loved that."

"Same here," Matsukawa said, and his voice… It was soft, but there was something else there, too, now.

Watari smiled easily as he felt Matsukawa staring once more. …but, now, in light of discussing the ending, Watari felt quite self-conscious of that gaze on him. He waited for Matsukawa to speak more, but he forced his eyes up when the room remained quiet, though he felt nervous about catching his friend in the act.

Matsukawa's eyes were glued to him, that smirk lingered, and his posture was as comfy as ever. He didn't even flinch when Watari looked back and studied his face. It wasn't even a poker face. It was just…Matsukawa's face. A familiar face…a handsome face. That smirk bordering on smile, that nose with a slight right tilt, those angled eyes with coal black eyes… His eyelashes were blacker than his curls, too, and so, _so_ long.

Watari jerked when Matsukawa breathed, a chuckle coming at the end of his exhale. So. Matsukawa really _was_ this aware of him. It didn't come as an utter surprise to Watari, because he knew Matsukawa had stared before. But now it felt different. And yet Watari didn't mind, partially because he knew he often caused that smile to appear. He'd decided to come here, and a part of him, Watari suspected, had expected this kind of reaction from Matsukawa. Even if Matsukawa had acted otherwise, Watari knew he would come here, again and again and again, because that smile—

—that _smile_ , which he knew right then and there, that he could no longer go without belonged to a _person_ he could no longer go without.

…ah. The story made complete sense now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooooookay. Mostly I just want to point out that Mattsun's texts have been getting friendlier without Watari's notice, *lol* (or maybe my little libero leaf of a son is slightly emoji illiterate? Whoops :P). Anyway…yeah. All that happened. XD Mattsun cooking is just precious… All their families, too—W's good relationship with his parents, especially his mum; Mattsun's colorful fam, esp his sister (Kako's my OC, who first appeared truly in "Lonely Child" and "Content Adult," tho I'd been thinking about her for a while…); Yahaba's family, too! (Headcanons for Y's fam first cropped up in things like "April Fool" and "Zone.") Speaking of family, Kako's nickname for Mattsun, "Itchan," is more commonly used for boys with versions of "Ichiro" for their names, or rather names starting with "Ichi" or "Itsu;" Kako used it when she was little because of the double consonant in her lil' bro's name. Also, there are some things manga-only readers should be familiar with, such as Yahaba's affection for rubber ducks (and lbh this precious dork WOULD name them) and the Seijou alumni trio (Yuda, Shido, and Sawauchi are too, too important to me, AGGGGHHH; headcanons about Shido working at Shimada Mart first cropped up in a long, untitled Matsuwata piece I wrote for a tumblr pal), and the trio come in handy, too, considering Iwaoi's technically busy in this story, *lol*. As for friends, the Watayaha friendship is also super important, and Yahaba… It's pretty obvious the setter has figured everything out by now, amirite? ;D And, though it might be easy for Matsuwata to catch the Hanayaha fever, Matsuwata was starting to happen before Watari even knew about Hanayaha, starting to happen somewhat alongside the strong Matsuwata friendship, so it's legit and not a side-effect. XD What else… I'm surprised that Wish You Were Here Yesterday borrowed from Bikke's Shinkuu Yuusetsu more than I thought it would; I already had the general plot of falling into step figured well before I read Bikke's manga, but the manga has helped add that special something to the main point…which Watari has just about figured out by now. ;3 Lastly, there were plans for a dumb Hanayaha scene in which Makki whipped out a "spare" bathing suit in the hopes of seeing Yahaba in a speedo, but there wasn't time for that (sorry!), plus I was laughing too hard at the idea even to include it. XD But let's just imagine the exchange happened behind the scenes—if so, it's a miracle Yahaba didn't strangle Makki before the pool.
> 
> So, with all that said, thank you very much for reading, and let's meet again in ch10 to see how things play out, no?
> 
> -mew! :3c


	10. Given the Chance...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things click into place for Watari.

Matsukawa seemed the same as ever and yet not later that weekend when Watari was over yet again that Sunday and the duo had one of their usual relaxing days spent inside, in the fan's line of fire as the summer tried to close out with a blast of heat. They'd done as much the past two days, for the same reason.

Watari, for his part, thought he, himself, was the same as usual, reading while Matsukawa made up strange playlists or looking something up while Matsukawa's eyes darted between his game and Watari, who sat there with the game guide cracked open in his lap. And yet…

Since finishing the light novel, Watari had sensed the change in Matsukawa's forthright gaze, and he found it hard to pick his head up and meet those eyes every time. Sometimes it was just typical, impish Matsukawa. Other times, it was that enigmatic Matsukawa who always appeared to be on the verge of saying something. Before, Watari now knew, Matsukawa had refrained from commenting on Hanamaki and Yahaba. But now there definitely was commentary on something else which he was withholding.

Still, Watari did his best not to dwell on it nor overanalyze it. He wasn't the type to jump to conclusions, and one really couldn't do that with the taciturn alumnus. Besides, Watari had the feeling that, if important enough, eventually Matsukawa would speak his mind…or let Watari guess it from his expressions as was his normal manner.

It wasn't as though the past several days had consisted merely of these instances of "Do I meet his eyes or not?" either. On Friday and yesterday, Kako had poked her head around more often, trying to play hostess in her own way, but she was an amusing addition to Watari's visits. He enjoyed watching the siblings interact, and Matsukawa was this kind of docile grump whenever she left them alone, which Watari loved seeing. She and Hanamaki appeared to be the only ones who could make Matsukawa lose his cool, and Watari pointed that out to the older boy now to break Matsukawa's stare this time around.

Matsukawa cocked his head to one side, surprised. "I do?"

The libero nodded and rested the anthology he was reading open on his chest as they leaned back against the closet doors like before, the TV supplying white noise in the background. Watari peered up at him, smiling gently. "I can't picture you _genuinely_ angry, but you get annoyed with them sometimes. What?" he added when Matsukawa raised his eyebrows, the delight evident in his eyes as it returned and his befuddlement evaporated.

He turned back to the TV as something new appeared on the screen, and he shifted his cushion so it was a smidge closer to Watari's. "…getting annoyed or angry isn't the only way for someone to lose his cool" was all he said in response, and he didn't explain further as the half hour struck and a new show came on.

Watari was a tad curious about the remark and supposed there was some truth to it, but he didn't spend any energy trying to figure out what Matsukawa meant by his words. He thought about picking up the anthology again—he was close to finishing the collection—but he was comfortable as they were, and the late morning bled into afternoon this way as they enjoyed hanging out in general, not even necessarily interacting but simply being together.

They ate some tasty sandwiches Matsukawa whipped up downstairs for lunch and tidied up Matsukawa's room before calling it a day. Without saying anything, Matsukawa walked Watari home yet again, though Watari mused that perhaps it was a habit the taller boy was trying to pick up. He'd done it that day when Watari's thoughts had been a mess, and he'd done it twice last week, after they'd discussed _Wish You Were Here Yesterday_ and on Friday. Thursday, Matsukawa had driven him home as had become near routine.

"Routine." It was a nice word, a word Watari enjoyed. Routines were good things. However… Watari cut his eyes over to his companion as they approached the hardware store. The libero knew that the sight of Matsukawa walking beside him would be anything but routine in the near future—it'd be a flight of fancy once he was off to university and if Matsukawa left for university before then.

Matsukawa turned to him again, curious at Watari's attention on him. He leaned his arm against Watari's, wondering if something were wrong.

Somehow, the gesture put Watari at ease, so he shook his head and offered Matsukawa a soft smile. "It's nothing," he fibbed.

The black-haired boy lifted one eyebrow and leaned on Watari the rest of the way, but the "punishment" only made the vice-captain laugh and prop him up as they walked. Matsukawa patted Watari's head at the gate, and he tweaked Watari's nose to draw another grin from him before heading back.

Watari couldn't help it: He watched Matsukawa reach the end of his street and round the corner, and only then did Watari head inside.

His mother didn't bother him before he went upstairs to his room, though he was surprised when his phone buzzed as soon as he'd shut the door to his bedroom. Anticipating a text from Matsukawa, his pulse quickened as he dug his phone out of his pocket. And his heart sank a little when he saw it actually was Yahaba:

_-entertAIN ME._

Oh, boy. Punctuation, but misguided capitals. Yahaba was in a mood. But why?

_-What's wrong?_

_-no Hanamaki-san…_

Watari sighed and went and flopped backwards onto his bed. He knew to expect this, even if Matsukawa _hadn't_ warned him. But, honestly, he'd expected a little better of Yahaba, thinking the captain wouldn't already start asking to hang when his boyfriend wasn't around. …still, he also knew that he understood Yahaba's actions and intentions, because it had to be lonely when he couldn't be with Hanamaki. Watari, too, felt down those times when practice interfered with him and Matsukawa meeting up or when Matsukawa texted him to skip visiting him on his break because work was too much and he wouldn't have a minute to give Watari.

…ah.

Slowly, Watari sat up, the humidity feeling like a cold breeze on his skin as he acknowledged that, in fact, the time he spent with Matsukawa…was it maybe in the same vein as the time Yahaba spent with Hanamaki? But, then that meant… Could he really want to spend time with Matsukawa that way, too? Watari knew—he _knew_ he felt something strongly for Matsukawa, but…he hadn't named it yet.

All the same, he noted more and more details when they were together—details of time already spent and of the rest of the final week of summer vacation. These things had slowly but surely been popping out to him more and more often, more vividly, but Watari had a difficult time viewing them with an amused smile so dismissively anymore.

Their rides around town on the bus, with Matsukawa's leg right beside his or pressed against his, another indication of the difference in their sizes, another indication in their varied tastes, because Watari almost always wore the same, old, white sneakers, but sometimes Matsukawa wore black sandals when he felt especially relaxed, old sandals with a dark, blacker-than-black, thick strap across the top, a stark contrast with the white of the canvas shoe abutting it.

Their rides to Watari's home from the hardware store, seemingly shorter with each one that Watari took but intimate nevertheless, filled with idle or meaningful conversation as desired, the distance of the console between them up in the truck's cabin not much of an obstacle, not when Matsukawa could reach over so easily, too easily, to shove Watari's shoulder playfully or to pat his head softly, though this last Tuesday and Thursday both found Watari convincing himself he'd imagined it, imagined how what was supposed to be a pat had been Matsukawa's fingers ghosting over his skin, had been Matsukawa resting his hand on Watari's head, a lingering touch that, on Thursday, dipped to the back of Watari's neck, almost as if the libero were about to be pulled in, but then Matsukawa was waving him inside the next second, so Watari had no choice but to convince himself that, yeah, he'd imagined it…or hallucinated.

Watari's slightly wayward thoughts kept overwriting his senses like this, on Friday and on Saturday, too. On Friday, while watching a movie Watari had brought over, for once, the younger boy had been more aware than usual of the right shoulder beside him, and he'd wondered about the warmth there and how comfortable it seemed if Watari chose to rest his head there— _again_ , he realized with a rush of blood to his cheeks during an odd part in the movie, making Matsukawa give him that throaty chuckle Watari often received when he accidentally found himself the impromptu butt of the joke, just as he did then, because he remembered he'd already fallen asleep on that shoulder once, so it was no wonder but actual memory at conjuring up that sensation.

And Saturday, Watari appeared at Sekitan Apothecary for the last two minutes of Matsukawa's shift—to collect him, the libero admitted to himself—and Matsukawa's eyes brightened when they alighted upon the smaller teen, and Watari kept the happy warmth that pooled in his middle at the action alive and well afterwards by musing how maybe it wouldn't be all that different, peering into each other's eyes a bit more fondly, a tad more often, it wouldn't be all that different from how they were already.

And on Sunday, the final one of the break, when they left Matsukawa's house later than normal, after supper, a meal they ate together before Kako could come interrupt and drag Watari into a Matsukawa family dinner, when it was darker than Watari was used to, darker and not so hot and humid, dark enough that the crescent moon was a Cheshire cat's ivory-toothed grin peeking between soot-stained clouds, Watari's mind wandered again, this time along with his eyes as he admired the profile walking beside him for the umpteenth time…and then his eyes slid down the sinewy arm that ended in a denim pocket, but Watari didn't need to view Matsukawa's hand to know about the lightly tanned hand that rested there, the sturdy hand with soft fingers that he'd felt on his wrists weeks ago, fingers that were proportionately more slender than Watari's own, fingers that teased him when they tweaked his nose…fingers on a hand that looked as though it'd feel nice to hold, even though Watari had never done such a thing before.

Would it be so bad, if things changed between them? And how did certain things become "good" or "bad" to begin with? Wasn't that up to perception, after all? And if Watari was all right with one or two adjustments to how he and Matsukawa got along, if it hadn't been Watari's imagination all those times before…

"…tari. Watari."

The shorter teen almost yelped as he was forced to halt in front of his family's nameplate when Matsukawa bent down some and stuck his face in the way. Holy _crap_ , if he'd kept walking with Matsukawa hovering in front of him like that, then—! But, no, Watari reined his imagination in; he _had_ to, otherwise he'd be rooted to the pavement for the rest of the night.

Matsukawa quirked an eyebrow, his lips a straight line and giving nothing on his mind away. His eyes lingered on Watari's face before he straightened up and turned towards the other boy. "You really didn't realize you were home," he pointed out, sounding impressed.

"I, uh…no," Watari confessed.

"Bummed that school resumes tomorrow?"

"Sort of." It wasn't a lie. It wasn't the entire truth, either, but it wasn't a lie. This had been one of Watari's favorite summers, thanks to Matsukawa…though Watari knew this was becoming one of Watari's favorite _years_ , as well, also thanks to Matsukawa.

Matsukawa nodded, like "Same here." "Summer's been pretty cool," he remarked, that gleam back in his nighttime-colored eyes. But, before Watari could note his quickened pulse at the gaze, Matsukawa's mouth popped open. "Ah. Right." And he handed Watari a handkerchief from his other pocket.

Watari's handkerchief. From months ago, when they'd first reconnected.

"I…forgot about it."

"Oh." The fluttery-ness Watari had been experiencing the past week—even just from tonight—fluttered away as his mind went blank and he took the proffered piece of folded cloth. He didn't note the odd pause in Matsukawa's sentence, nor did he catch the fluster on his friend's countenance, because Watari busied himself with putting the handkerchief away, trying to do anything but zero in on how…on how _disappointed_ he felt, as if this were some unforeseen ending.

"See you Tuesday?"

Watari blinked, snapping out of his stupor and plastering on a grin for Matsukawa. "Huh? Oh, yeah."

But Matsukawa's hand caught him as he turned to head inside, and Watari faced him again, rewarded with the full view of Matsukawa's fluster: all wrinkled lines of pursed lips trying not to frown and knitted brows pinching together and eyes that had a hard time settling on Watari's face. Then Matsukawa took a breath and twisted his lips around, like "I mean it. I'll see you then."

"I understand, Matsukawa-san."

"I want to see you then," he elaborated, as if saying it aloud cleared up everything.

Watari nodded dumbly, the only thing he could do in the face of Matsukawa's declaration, and he had to pat the hand that held on to him to reassure his tall friend before he was released and could go inside. And, inside, Watari shouted to his mother that he'd eaten already before he ducked up to his room, wishing for all intents and purposes to spend the rest of the evening with his head buried in his pillow because, if he didn't, he might scream at the feeling of his heart happily exploding in his chest.

So, of course, a text interrupted his confused celebration. But Luck was on his side this time, because the message was from the one person Watari wanted it to be from:

_-_ _(_ _シ_ __ _)_ _シ_

Watari smiled wryly at his screen.

_-? There's nothing to apologize for, Matsukawa-san._

Matsukawa's next response had him laughing:

_-_ _ヽ_ _(_ _ﾟｰﾟ_ _*_ _ヽ_ _)_ _ヽ_ _(*_ _ﾟｰﾟ_ _*)_ _ﾉ_ _(_ _ﾉ_ _*_ _ﾟｰﾟ_ _)_ _ﾉ_

His mother knocked at his door. "Shinji?" she called from the other side. "Are you all right?"

He calmed down long enough to answer her. "I will be," he said. And he knew it was a fact as soon as the words left his mouth.

* * *

The semester began with Watari a tad unfocused at school and at practice, but he knew he would've been in worse shape if Matsukawa had left him with the misunderstanding that their routine would cease.

Instead, Watari's mind filled with a plentitude of possibilities, and sometimes he was caught off-guard when Matsukawa sent him a silly emoji here and there while he worked. After half a dozen such texts on Monday, Watari—ever the good student—was a little bad and checked his messages during his lunch break, despite his tendency to keep his phone turned off during the school day. Still, he was back to being on his best behavior when he went to club activities Tuesday afternoon. However…

"If you're going to keep spacing out like that, I'm going to have to find myself a new vice-captain," Yahaba scolded during stretches. The other third years were clustered near them, but Yahaba gestured with a tip of his head for Watari to step aside with him. "You okay, Watari?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

Yahaba narrowed his eyes at him. "Uh, did you not hear what I said? You've been spacing out. You do that at the wrong time just in practice, and you could find yourself injured."

Though it had long since healed, Watari instinctively touched where he'd split his lip during the Karasuno match. "I'm fine, honestly," he told his friend, and he looked at the others to avoid another one of Yahaba's "I'm not sure I buy that" glares.

But Yahaba's concern brought his attention back to Yahaba and Hanamaki, and Watari's eyes finding Hoshimura lining up for sprinting drills made the libero recall the middle blocker's words about envying such a couple, and that got Watari thinking of the comparisons he'd drawn recently between Yahaba and Hanamaki, and him and Matsukawa—comparisons that were making sense now that Watari devoted a bit of time to them and—

A funny thought hit him while Mizoguchi-san spoke to the team about preparations for the Spring High prelims. And Watari was stunned it hadn't occurred to him before. It was absurd to recognize this now, especially when it made him want to laugh in the middle of practice, though he didn't for he wanted to keep Yahaba's perceptive stare off him, but…

In all his comparisons, he'd never even stopped to think _if_ he could see Matsukawa in such a light. He was picturing Matsukawa already fitting in to his life and vice versa, a little like puzzle pieces that had spent some of the spring and all of the summer forming the complete picture.

What a brilliant picture it was.

Watari tamped down his giddiness into pleasantness as practice went on…and dragged on…and he met up with Matsukawa a little on the later side that evening. He raised his hand in greeting, which Matsukawa returned, and Watari waited for Matsukawa to throw open the back of the truck so he could sit in his usual spot.

"We meet again," Watari said with a chuckle in his voice as he put his duffle bag down on his side opposite Matsukawa.

"As promised" was conveyed by the wry expression the older teen gave him.

"Ah, but things are different this time around."

Matsukawa frowned, perplexed.

"I've got my jacket zipped up almost the whole way, and you've left just the top button of your jumpsuit undone."

Matsukawa glanced down at his row of buttons on reflex before shrugging. "Chillier today."

"Yeah. Kind of weird, since we were still in t-shirts just this past Sunday…"

"It's supposed to be warmer this coming weekend."

"Is it?" Watari tried to think back, but he couldn't recall the forecast on the news this morning. Doubtful it would be warm enough for another pool visit, though Watari knew he'd like to do that again sometime in the future.

The familiar sensation of Matsukawa's eyes moving over him made him red to the ears in this instance, but that was only due to Watari seeing Yahaba's "I know more than you're saying" look in his mind's eye. Watari took a breath and calmed down, pulling from his memory the comfortable feeling he enjoyed from being with Matsukawa, friendly or no.

"Did I catch you at the beginning of your stop?" the third year asked, remembering how Matsukawa had had to open the back for him tonight.

"Yeah," Matsukawa said, heaving himself into the back and nudging a large number of boxes towards the front. "They've got more today."

Watari did a quick count. "Seven…eight boxes?"

"Remodeling."

"Oh. Need some help?" he offered as Matsukawa lined up the boxes beside him.

Matsukawa smiled, but he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, as though he were about to laugh. "No, I'm good."

Watari looked at him funny, but that only summoned Matsukawa's wolfish grin as the latter began carting boxes inside.

The black-haired boy moved steadily, so it took him several minutes to complete the delivery, but he didn't drop any of the heavier packages, so that was a relief. And he gave Watari a winning smile or that wolfish grin each time he returned, thoroughly confusing the libero. Matsukawa made his way down the line, drawing closer to Watari with each box turned in, but his lips were zipped tight about whatever entertained him so, and Watari rolled his eyes good-humoredly when, at the last box, Matsukawa made a show of bumping into Watari's leg on purpose. By the time all was said and done, they'd spent most of their typical time allotment this way, Matsukawa finding great fun toying with Watari once more.

But, honestly, Watari had fun if Matsukawa had fun, too.

"By the way," Matsukawa started, sitting beside Watari once he'd finished, "we narrowly avoided dinner with my family last Sunday."

"Kako-san _did_ seem intent on remedying that situation then…"

Matsukawa cast his eyes over their feet swinging freely over the edge before settling them on Watari. He raised his eyebrows and drew one corner of his mouth up, as if to say "I'm not sure I can guarantee your escape next time."

Watari laughed and waved him off. "It's all right. I like her, you know. I'm sure I'll be fine when it happens."

"You mean when she gets her claws into you."

Okay, so that sounded scarier than Watari wished, but he'd been observing the Matsukawa siblings long enough now to know when Matsukawa was exaggerating. "She wouldn't have a leg to stand on if you cooked dinner, making it _your_ dinner we gather 'round for."

"No."

"That was quick."

Matsukawa pouted but slowly responded, "…I don't often cook for them."

Oh. "I'm flattered," Watari replied, and his grin widened when Matsukawa's ears darkened with color.

Watari caught him up on the past two days' silliness—he'd missed seeing Kyoutani bow his head in thanks to Yahaba for handling the Hoshimura debacle since he'd been reading Matsukawa's texts, and Mizoguchi-san and Kunimi had yelled at Terakado in perfect harmony that morning. "I'd been wondering since Yahaba first became captain who'd be next, but Kunimi's really shown his mettle as of late. With Kindaichi as his vice-captain, Kunimi could make a great captain."

Matsukawa snorted at that. "Oikawa would be so proud."

"Yeah. Yahaba was tossing around the idea of buying Mizoguchi-san a year's worth of antacids as a graduation gift."

Their stomachs growled around the same time, and Matsukawa checked his watch as he passed Watari a spare umaibo from the breast pocket of his jumpsuit. "Agh. It's kind of late… I should get you home."

Watari nodded, and he unwrapped the snack and ate on the ride there. The truck cabin was filled with the sound of their crunching as they ate, and Watari sent his mother a quick message saying he'd be home shortly. A minute later, the truck rolled to a stop in front of his house.

Matsukawa tipped his head to him. "Thursday, yeah?"

The younger male beamed. "See you around!"

The words came so easily now, but the delight in Matsukawa's eyes was nothing of which Watari ever tired, and he was pleased when Matsukawa still wore that look while he watched Watari scamper inside.

The two of them really did paint a brilliant picture.

* * *

Come Wednesday morning, Watari was singing a different tune.

It wasn't that he'd had a change of heart about Matsukawa—Watari didn't even consider that possibility—but he woke up that morning, in a happy mood. He got ready for school, he ate a decent breakfast, and he'd left the house on time.

Then he got to school and realized he didn't have his phone.

He cursed when he first noticed it in homeroom, but he took a breath to extinguish his annoyance. It wasn't much of a loss if he'd merely forgotten it at home; he was used to keeping it off during the day, anyway, and it wasn't as though his parents had to hunt him down to discover his whereabouts, because he had club after school, and he would head straight home after since Matsukawa was working at his family's store.

But the past two days had indulged him, and he sighed morosely when he thought of the texts he'd miss with his phone lying somewhere in his room. He tried to comfort himself with the notion that the day would be over soon enough, and he'd call Matsukawa if he had to, just to explain any missed messages.

Nevertheless, he sighed. A _lot_.

"Be careful nothing flies in there while you keep doing that, Watari," Mizoguchi-san teased him during practice, but his teasing grin melted when the typically perky libero didn't respond. The next thing Watari knew, the assistant coach was motioning wildly to Yahaba.

"Not this crap again," Yahaba griped as he caught up with his friend on the sidelines. The team was in the middle of a practice set, but Yahaba had pulled Watari aside at Mizoguchi-san's insistence.

Watari sighed and gave Yahaba a tiny glare. "What 'crap again'?"

"Yesterday, you were in a daze. Now you're mopey. What gives?"

The shaven-haired boy debated telling Yahaba the anecdote…and went for it, giving him the glibbest version he could without raising Yahaba's suspicion. But Watari's bad luck didn't stop at forgetting his phone.

Yahaba wore a devil's smirk as he fought a snicker down. "You're sure you forgot it at home?"

"Of course." Though he hadn't considered it'd be anywhere else…

"And yesterday was Tuesday."

"Obviously."

The captain tilted his head forward, waggling his eyebrows at Watari. "And didn't you mention that a certain someone's local on Tuesday and Thursday evenings?"

Watari jolted. Had he? "I never said that."

"You told me when you last stayed over."

The vice-captain narrowed his eyes at the other third year. "No, I didn't."

Yahaba rolled his eyes. " _Fine_. Hanamaki-san told me Matsukawa-san's work schedule. But," he added when Watari settled him with a particularly dark expression, "I would've figured it out without asking. You scarper off promptly after club every week on those days. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together."

Watari cocked his head to one side triumphantly. "Incidentally, you said it, not me."

But Yahaba only grumbled at inadvertently having called himself an idiot. "You were with Matsukawa-san the other night, weren't you?"

Another sigh bubbled up within him, and Watari released it, already tired of the games Yahaba was playing. "Yeah, I was. Since practice let out kind of late, we were out kind of late, and he drove me home."

"So you could've left your phone in the delivery truck."

Oops. Now Watari felt dumb.

But Yahaba was amused by how quiet Watari had turned, and he slung an arm around his shoulders, laughing all the while. "Look at you! I bet you left it on purpose."

Watari furrowed his brow. "Why would I leave it on purpose?"

"…or, in your case, you left it on purpose unconsciously." He rolled his eyes again, this time muttering something under his breath that sounded perilously close to "By gods, Matsukawa-san must be the patient one."

So Watari glared at him again.

Yahaba tried assuring him that it was all in fun that he badgered him, but Ueno flagged them over to the doors of the gym once there was a pause in the set. Yahaba, arm still tight and friendly around Watari's shoulders, turned, bringing Watari around with him. And Watari's bad luck worsened:

Morioka, the girl who'd all but confessed to Watari, stood on the outside step, twiddling her fingers as she scanned the gym and saw where Ueno pointed to captain and vice-captain. She bowed her head to them but remained rooted to the spot.

"Hell," Yahaba bemoaned, sliding his arm from Watari, but he lingered behind the libero as Watari jogged over to the pretty girl.

"Good afternoon, Watari-senpai," she said.

The shaven-haired teen blinked, noting her honorific. Not only had he never contacted her, but he'd never bothered to learn anything about her beyond the contact info she'd given him months back. That was not good. "Uh, hi, Morioka-san…"

She smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Um…did you have a good summer?"

His cheeks felt warm as a select few of his favorite memories came to the forefront of his mind. "Y-Yes, I did. You?"

"Mm-hmm." She ducked her eyes then, continuing to twiddle at least her thumbs.

Watari felt like doing the same. It was better than searching for the proper words to turn her down. "Morioka-san…"

She picked her head up, her cheeks pink. "Yes?"

"Ah, so sorry to interrupt," Yahaba came up and interjected, and he slapped Watari heartily on the back. He gripped Watari's shoulder, too, digging his fingers in so Watari would be quiet. "Morioka-san, right?" he addressed her, wearing a blinding smile to put the other girls at school to shame.

Morioka nodded, though she was frowning.

"Oh, good. I'm Yahaba, the captain of the volleyball club. Sorry we didn't tell you sooner, but"—he shrugged as if it were an easy matter to forget—"the manager's position has been filled."

Her face fell, and Watari snapped his head towards the brunet. Had Yahaba made a decision all on his own? "But, we haven't—" He shut up when Yahaba dug his fingers a little deeper, making Watari wince.

Yahaba let up a moment later, casually resting on Watari's shoulder. "Sorry, he's misinformed. The position definitely was filled," he finished with a pointed look at the girl.

She flinched and turned, hurrying away after taking the hint.

Watari shoved Yahaba off him and shook his head. "For crying out loud… Did you _have_ to say it like that? She—" He groaned. "What if she reads into that, thinking you and I…?" He groaned again as Yahaba pushed him back to practice, laughing all the way.

"Yes, yes. You can thank me some other time, Watari. I take rainchecks."

Practice, and the day with it, ended hours later, and Watari felt as though he'd been run ragged. To "lift his spirits," Yahaba focused the rest of the practice set and the one that followed on him and Okino, so the liberoes had no room to worry about anything but keeping the ball in the air.

"You'll thank me later~" Yahaba assured him in the clubroom as the guys changed and grabbed their stuff.

"I doubt it," Watari called over his shoulder, though he knew a part of him felt somewhat better after the vigorous workout. Still, a vigorous workout was draining, and Watari dragged his feet as he left the clubroom and traipsed downstairs, crossing the main courtyard at a leisurely pace. With the day over, he determined, it couldn't get any worse.

He took his time as he neared the school gate, his leg muscles not screaming but undoubtedly griping at him for not resting longer in the clubroom. He considered backtracking—maybe not the whole way…just to the shoe lockers…he could sit down right inside the doors for a few minutes…

Such ideas were forgotten, however, when he glimpsed a certain silhouette hovering right outside the premises. "Matsukawa-san?"

It was Matsukawa. Despite this being the usual time for deliveries, Matsukawa was _here_. He was dressed for the breeze that tumbled through the school grounds, his hands in the pockets of his dark green sweatshirt instead of his jeans. His head lifted up at the sound of Watari's voice, and his neutral expression shifted with the shy smile Watari had seen on a few occasions. He tilted his head, an invitation for Watari to catch up with him.

Ahh… Was it so wrong for Watari to enjoy the sight of Matsukawa waiting for him? Was it bad to think that they were better together as they were now, than as they had been before striking up this genuine friendship?

Was it a bad idea to get his hopes up and think that maybe, just maybe, this was a sign that the feelings he had were mutual?

"Sorry if you tried to get ahold of me today," he started with a gentle chuckle at himself. "I forgot my…oh."

Matsukawa's smile didn't lessen as he passed the phone to Watari. He glanced at the device and looked away, but Watari knew what he meant after unlocking it and seeing the handful of texts: "Yeah, I figured when my messages went unanswered…" The most recent string of fretful emoijs was a cute touch, though.

"Thanks," Watari said, looking up something on his browser.

He could sense the older boy frown, and Matsukawa took a step away.

"Hold on," Watari insisted, grabbing Matsukawa's nearer arm. "Give me a sec."

Judging by the shadow that felt over Watari, Matsukawa cocked his head again, curious.

And Watari sated his curiosity with one final check of the time. He lifted his eyes to meet Matsukawa's, though he wasn't as fidgety over being so aware of that coal-colored gaze on him. He smiled, too. "If you're not busy… If we leave right now, we can catch 'Nights Engarde' in twenty minutes at the theater."

Excitement was plain on his face. Had he a tail like the large puppy Watari sometimes saw him as, surely it'd be wagging. It was unlikely he'd picture Watari to look into more movies based on the odd short stories Matsukawa had him read, let alone volunteer to go with him to another.

But, Watari thought as he lightly tugged Matsukawa along, they had that first movie to thank, in a way. It wasn't just the light novel that made sense. The movie, too—that idea that Matsukawa embraced, of liking something…or some _one_ …without fully understanding why… Watari decided it suited them very well.

Several yards from the high school, Matsukawa cleared his throat as they walked, forcing Watari's eyes up again. The black-haired teen averted his eyes, but he shifted his arm, long enough to shake Watari's handle on him and switch it so they walked with arms linked.

Oh, never mind. Seeing Matsukawa so happy and feeling that much happier as a result made Watari realize he'd positively fallen for this big goof who wasn't as sly as he appeared to be. So liking him without understanding why? Well…maybe Watari knew why, just a smidge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really, as the story developed, I recognized I wanted to write a quiet but genuine love story. Though the pacing for this chapter felt slightly different compared to the others, I still assert there are no quick revelations—for either Watacchi or Mattsun—and that's part of Matsuwata's charm. I also confess: There wasn't supposed to be any more angst after ch8, but mew did A Thing and wrote that mean little handkerchief scene. But! Luckily I have someone who lovingly points out when I'm being cruel to my OTPs ;P, and Mattsun also refused to let that scene end with anything but Watari's smile, so there you go. Let's see, what else… I like to think this story goes out with a pleasing, content sigh than with a bang. Part of that comes from the inspiration I drew for some of the story from two songs, "Don't Look Back" by Télépopmusik and "Love Is" by Meg and Dia, some subtle anthems, if you ask me. There's also the satisfaction of wrapping up the Morioka thread, and the fun in insinuating that, oh, yeah, Yahaba totes knows what's been developing. XD And Watari… He swore he wouldn't overanalyze, but some of that happened in the end, but that just breathes more life into him, because we all do things we swear we won't do, non? -w-
> 
> Thank you very much for reading all the way to the end, and I'd love to hear from you in a review/comment! For those who'd like just a little more (and, ngl, because I can't help myself), there is an epilogue to follow… See you there!
> 
> -mew! :3


	11. A Day in the Life (epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let us check back in with these cute goofs. ♡

_**7:00AM** _

For once, he'd managed to convince Hanamaki _not_ to horse around last night, and so Matsukawa had gotten a full eight hours of sleep, at a reasonable hour, too, no less. That meant he could wake that Friday also at a reasonable hour, and he could pop over and see Ryouzou-san next door before everyone in the Matsukawa household had breakfast. At this time of the morning, the old man would've already eaten, so Matsukawa wouldn't have to worry about intruding.

He dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, grabbing a thin sweatshirt downstairs by the front door before heading out, because this weekend truly felt like autumn. It wasn't hot like last week, which had been unusually warm as he'd promised Watari. No, whereas he and Watari had eaten ice-cream outside last week for summer's final hurrah, this weekend… This weekend Matsukawa wanted to hole up inside, maybe break the kotatsu out early. The mental image of him and Watari bunching up under the heated blanket in his room but otherwise cozy as usual made him smile and chuckle to himself.

"Good morning, Issei," Ryouzou-san said from his veranda as the teen entered through the gate and drew near. The old man really fit in with the neighborhood's aesthetic, preferring to dress in a worn kimono and an overcoat and thick socks, his legs tucked underneath him properly, his arms crossed and hidden by his sleeves. He rocked back gently on his heels, looking up at the tall boy as Matsukawa joined him but sat on the edge of the porch, planting his sneakers lazily on the gravel path. Ryouzou-san, very much like Matsukawa and his family, didn't display his emotions readily on his face, though the way he often pinched his dark brow together and pursed his lips gave him a gruff appearance, as it did now as he faced his companion seated on his right. "That's a pretty dumb look you've got there on your face," he said pointblank.

Internally, Matsukawa rolled his eyes. The personalities at Aoba Johsai had been a piece of cake to handle after growing up beside this geezer who said whatever was on his mind. But Matsukawa found it endearing to an extent, found Ryouzou-san akin to a spare grandfather he didn't exactly ask for and couldn't exactly shake but found enjoyable all the same. "Not really," Matsukawa finally retorted, but his reply came late and sounded weak with his efforts zeroed in on taming his smile instead of finding a suitable comeback.

"You didn't come emptyhanded, did you?" the old man asked, changing the subject without a qualm.

Matsukawa shook his head and pulled out the thin book he'd tucked into the back of his waistband at the last second, passing it to Ryouzou-san. As the older man flexed it and smoothed the cover, Matsukawa said, "I would've gotten it back to you sooner, but—"

"I don't mind how long you take to read things, especially when the vocabulary's harder."

There was a slightly mocking edge to his tone that made Matsukawa roll his eyes outwardly. "I finished it in two nights, Ryouzou-san."

"Then why the apology?" he asked, tucking the book into his sleeve as his bull terrier trotted outside and joined them, coming and sticking his eggshell-colored snout between the two males, smiling up at them with squinty little eyes.

"I…let someone else read it," Matsukawa answered, patting the dog's head.

Ryouzou-san looked at him, aghast. "You let someone _else_ borrow _my_ book?!"

The dark-haired teen shook his head as the man growled "Nobu, sic him, boy!" to the dog. " _No_. I wouldn't loan out someone else's property—at least, not without asking first."

In an instant, half the angry wrinkles on Ryouzou-san's face vanished, and he went back to stroking Nobu's head. "Oh." Then he stared at Matsukawa oddly. "You had a guest over and made them read a book, Issei?"

On the face of it, it _did_ sound ridiculous and boring, but Matsukawa knew otherwise. "He's a fast reader, and we enjoy some of the same things. It wasn't an issue."

Ryouzou-san made a face. "It wasn't Takahiro, was it? If there's so much as one dog-eared page—"

Matsukawa shook his head again, motioning that he knew better.

The old man calmed once more, and he pulled Nobu into his lap, a mawkish gesture which always stunned Matsukawa, because it didn't fit in with Ryouzou-san's overall image. "Did you like the novel? The both of you?"

The obvious answer was "yes," though Matsukawa knew he'd forgotten some parts, especially after discussing it with Watari, because his mind had been elsewhere with his attention on the libero… Still, he went with "yes." "Ah, but I might dial back on how often I come to borrow from you for the time being…"

A long pause played between them, and the early morning birds sang in the quiet. A second later, Ryouzou-san's brown eyes sidled over to observe him. "Finally putting your head in your books, eh?"

Not what Matsukawa had been thinking, though Ryouzou-san reminded him of something very important. Of course at the forefront of his mind was Watari and this relationship which they'd all but named, but Matsukawa now thought back to when he'd been helping Watari study, when they'd talked about the future. Matsukawa _was_ certain he wouldn't follow in his parents' and sister's footsteps, and he _wasn't_ certain what he wanted to do in general… He didn't have goals like Watari's, but he knew, at least, that he didn't want to be like Hanamaki forever, as much fun as his best friend seemed to be having balancing hours at his new part-time job and swinging around to dog Yahaba's heels.

"School or no, it's no life if you don't enjoy it," Ryouzou-san quipped when the teen didn't answer, and he pointed at Matsukawa with Nobu's left forepaw. "So you better make time for pleasure reading, Issei. That's the only way to ensure a generation maintains some common sense."

Matsukawa laughed politely at that. He checked his watch after and saw he had to go eat then if he were to have enough time both to clean up and to head to the store to start his shift. He stood to go, bowing his head to Ryouzou-san and scratching Nobu's ears once more.

"Ah, Issei," the old man called once Matsukawa was a few yards away. He continued when the teen turned partway. "The friend you let read my book—are they trustworthy with your own books?"

Matsukawa nodded.

Ryouzou-san, too, nodded, but to himself. "Then I'll have to meet them and see so for myself."

The idea of Ryouzou-san scrutinizing Watari made Matsukawa's heart race with panic and forced bile into the back of his throat, and he daren't think about the last time Ryouzou-san had passed judgment on one of his friends. Of course, Hanamaki was a troublemaker and nothing like Watari, but still…!

* * *

_**12:30PM** _

Just as the alarm on his watch beeped to signal his lunchbreak, Matsukawa turned and saw his sister shaking her head as he began to slip his Sekitan apron off. He grimaced, but that did nothing to provoke her.

"Sorry," she said nonchalantly, scurrying past him, her denim jacket on and a package under each arm. "I got a call from Mom and Dad, and I need to join their meeting, so the shop's in your hands. Have a working lunch, Itchan."

He opened his mouth to protest, but it was useless. From a young age, he'd learned not to disrupt his parents when they were in their busy mode, and he'd had to learn the same for Kako once it became obvious she was going to be in the same line of work. So he resigned himself to his fate and appreciated that Kako at least brought his sandwich up front from the fridge in the back before leaving. He ate at the counter during a brilliant lull, taking his phone out and wondering what kind of text to send Watari.

Speak of the devil—a text came in from Watari right then:

_-Good news! No practice today. I can come over right after. c:_

Just as suddenly as his mood had plummeted after Kako's announcement, his mood lifted up at Watari's message, and he quickly sent a confirmation:

_-_ _（￣ー￣）_

"That's a pretty deliriously happy smile you've got on there."

Such familiar words… But they came from Hanamaki this time, not from Ryouzou-san, so Matsukawa settled the speaker with a particularly dry look as the annoyance sauntered up the main aisle to greet him. "…on my lunchbreak? Seriously?"

Hanamaki grinned at him and leaned his elbows on the counter, reaching for Matsukawa's sandwich. He pouted when the taller boy yanked it out of his grasp. "Seriously. I don't work Fridays. At least, not yet. But _you_ "—he pointed rudely at the jet-haired giant—"are in the middle of your typical day here, when you should be on break."

"Kako had to step out."

"Ah." Hanamaki raised his eyebrows and shrugged, turning around so he could lean against the counter and watch the store with Matsukawa. "Then why're you so happy?"

Matsukawa pursed his lips. He refused to answer. Besides, Hanamaki would supply his own explanation soon enough.

And, not one to disappoint, Hanamaki glanced over his left shoulder at Matsukawa, a knowing smirk painted on his lips. "You heard from Watari, I take it."

Matsukawa busied himself eating.

"Call or text…text, gotta be," Hanamaki continued, eyeing his friend. He faced Matsukawa again, again leaning on his elbows but stroking his chin this time. "Yeah, definitely a text. He told you there's no practice today, so you two will meet up at the end of the day."

Matsukawa gawped at him. "How…?"

Hanamaki stuck his tongue out at him. "Duh. Yahaba called me at the start of the lunch period."

Oh. That made sense, actually. Matsukawa exhaled, calmer after hearing that.

"But… _damn_."

"What?" Matsukawa asked, finishing his food right as two customers entered the apothecary. He threw out his trash and took a squirt of hand sanitizer from the dispenser in the back, just in time to find an order for the first customer. The other dawdled in the front, looking at the various lip balms, so Matsukawa shot his friend a little glare for him to continue but to do so quietly.

"Watari always gave off that pet vibe, to be honest."

Matsukawa pulled a face.

"Oh, come on. In club? He was such a good kid. Polite, like, ninety-nine percent of the time. His sass is so watered-down, it's almost not sass."

At that, Matsukawa turned his head to hide a snicker. If only Hanamaki and the others knew…! Yahaba probably knew about the snide side of the libero, but Matsukawa had a feeling Watari only ever showed his exasperated side to his friend and that Matsukawa got more of what honestly made Watari…well, honest.

Hanamaki paused to give Matsukawa a befuddled look, but he pushed on. "Anyway, so when you mentioned months ago about running in to him, and then seeing him kinda often, I thought you'd gotten yourself a pet." He laughed at the second glare Matsukawa gave him, but there was no meanness in his tone or in his eyes, although he couldn't wipe that smirk off his face. "But I get it. I know better now, you know."

Matsukawa quirked an eyebrow, like "Is that so?"

"Really. I had a hunch—so did Yahaba—but I knew for sure after the pool. And if not then, then definitely now, with that delirious look on your face."

"Is 'delirious' your choice word of the day?"

"Maybe. It's fun to say." Hanamaki twirled halfway around, the hood of his pink sweatshirt flapping behind him, and sashayed in front of the counter after the other customer left without buying anything. "Delirious~ Delirious~ Matsukawa is delirious~"

Good grief. Where was Iwaizumi when a guy needed him?

"Oh!" Hanamaki spun around to a stop in front of the dark-haired male once more. His eyes were bright. "You know this means I don't have to ditch you, nor Yahaba, Watari, anymore. We can do double-dates!"

Matsukawa frowned—for two reasons. He'd heard from Iwaizumi about hanging out with Oikawa along with Hanamaki and Yahaba, and that had happened only once for good reason. Secondly… He was still enjoying this transition that wasn't quite a transition for him and Watari. But he didn't want to rush into something like a double-date too soon. Or, if he were being honest, he wasn't ready to share Watari with others just yet. The pool had been a different set of circumstances, and Matsukawa knew he'd almost gotten carried away, even then.

"Hey."

Matsukawa blinked, coming back to the present. He met a concerned pair of tawny eyes.

"I mean, I'm not exaggerating…am I? You two _are_ …?"

It was nice to know he cared, but that wasn't what brought the smile back to Matsukawa's face, small though it was. It was the fact that Hanamaki _wasn't_ exaggerating; he had no need. With Matsukawa and Watari, things were fine…things would _be_ fine.

* * *

_**3:15PM** _

At home, Matsukawa changed into his slippers and welcomed the silence of the empty house. Kako and their parents had returned to the apothecary in time for his shift to end, and he was more than glad to have the house to himself. He could change, clean up his room, fix a snack…fret about what was going through his mind.

He really liked Watari. As in, _really_ liked Watari. But had he ever actually made that abundantly clear to the libero?

Consciously, Matsukawa thought as he took his time putting away some laundry in his closet, he'd been aware of his intense favoritism of Watari for a few months, around the time he'd first taken Watari out to a movie, to cheer him up after the Interhigh loss. And it was likely around the time he'd first decided to lend _Wish You Were Here Yesterday_ to Watari that Matsukawa had acknowledged he wanted to keep Watari around permanently. Although…

His hands slowed to a stop in hanging up his clothing as he discovered one of his father's handkerchiefs mixed in with his laundry. The token was a reminder of Matsukawa and Watari's encounter at the start of summer, and Matsukawa's face reddened as he daydreamed about recently returning Watari's handkerchief to him. Unconsciously, he'd held on to it, accidentally on purpose, but he knew he couldn't hold on to it forever and so had given it back.

Gods. The shattered look that had passed over Watari's face had made Matsukawa panic then, so Matsukawa had made sure not to end the night on too permanent a note. He'd even said explicitly that he wanted to continue seeing the shorter teen. And Watari had cheered up, and then Watari had mislaid his phone days later, and then they'd met up again and had an impromptu movie date and—

—and it had been a week and a half since then, and Matsukawa was, as Hanamaki phrased it, deliriously happy. But that didn't mean he didn't worry about things he and Watari had yet to say or discuss.

His phone rang then, and he wondered if Watari had managed to pull off good timing twice in one day. Instead, the chime for a video chat followed, and Oikawa's and Iwaizumi's faces appeared on the screen when he answered. "Oi" and "Yahoo~" were said simultaneously, so it came out sounding like "Oihoo."

Matsukawa mustered a grin for them as he kicked the emptied laundry basket out of his room and picked it up at the top of the stairs. "You two all settled in now?"

"Settled…" Iwaizumi echoed his word but looked a rather sickly shade of green at saying it. "Please don't say it like that…"

Matsukawa saw from the corner of his eye that Oikawa shot him an unimpressed look. "Oh, get over it already." He faced the screen as Matsukawa stepped onto the main floor. "We are, though. Oh, and classes just started, but they're a lot of fun! You should come join us, Mattsun."

The black-haired teen internally sighed and smiled in response. He knew what it was like to stay overnight with them. But sharing a campus and maybe a dorm with them, for another four or so years? There was only one answer: "I think your university's a bit of a hike for me, guys."

"Yeah, but we've got _everything_ around here," Oikawa continued, poking Iwaizumi in the face until their former ace looked irate more than nauseated. "Iwa-chan turned down around fifteen different venues that weren't up to his standards, but it was worth it, being patient with him." His smile was friendlier than Iwaizumi liked, judging by how the latter tried shoving him out of view, snarling about who actually needed patience in their twosome.

"But we'll be home next week," Iwaizumi announced, managing to shove Oikawa to the side only partially, so he had Oikawa's cheek mushed against his left temple.

Matsukawa raised his eyebrows.

"The Spring High prelims are next week, right? So we're planning to come show our support." He frowned. "I really wish we could've been there for Interhigh prelims, especially after what Shido said happened."

Oikawa yowled in the background about "Tobio-chan," but Matsukawa, too, though back on that day, and he was glad it had been only him, Hanamaki, and Shido. Not that Oikawa and Iwaizumi were unwelcome, but, in hindsight, Matsukawa could say for sure that the current team didn't need such strong personalities hanging around that day. Not to mention that might've made it harder for Matsukawa to break off from the alumni to hover around Watari…

His dark eyes inched back for another glance at his phone's screen, watching his two friends blather on about something else—perhaps one of their classes? Matsukawa wasn't sure since he'd zoned out—and the familiar scene helped put him at ease…no, that wasn't quite right. Instead, it gave him some hope. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were a good example of people who understood where things stood between them even if they said nothing. Of course, Matsukawa and Hanamaki and the rest forever wondered if Iwaizumi would ever get with the program, but Matsukawa realized that paradigm shift was going to be something far different from his with Watari. In that way, he knew he was very lucky.

His phone buzzed while the duo continued talking, and a text appeared on the bottom of the screen:

_-I'll be at your gate soon._

Matsukawa blinked, suddenly recalling the front gate, short though it was, was locked, and he didn't want to force Watari to clamber over it. He dawdled, waiting for a pause to interrupt the childhood friends. "Guess I'll see you next week, then," he said, and Iwaizumi nodded and they said their farewells, although Oikawa's eyes felt sharp on Matsukawa as the line disconnected, and the former middle blocker prayed that the Interhigh prelims were all Shido or any of the others had mentioned to the two. If Hanamaki or Yuda had let slip any observations about him and Watari, then next week would not be as enjoyable as he'd originally pictured.

* * *

_**3:31PM** _

Watari walked up to the gate as Matsukawa neared, and Watari's smile was soft and welcoming as Matsukawa unlatched the gate that separated them. "That was quick," the shaven-haired boy stated, laughter lacing his tone.

Matsukawa blinked slowly, appreciatively. With a shock, he realized they never said "hello" to each other except for Watari's usual "Good evening" when meeting up with him on Tuesday and Thursday nights, and he kind of liked that, as if they didn't need the greetings and never had. There was something comforting in the simplicity of being around Watari, and Matsukawa knew the ends of his lips were curving up as he lingered by the gate, not moving aside to let Watari in, only staying there and looking down into his favorite set of warm gray eyes.

A healthy, berry hue dusted Watari's dark cheeks, but he didn't avert his eyes. He scratched his cheek, practically giggling as he said, "Um, Matsukawa-san, haven't you realized…? We've got an audience."

That snapped him out of his stupor, and at last Matsukawa sensed four other sets of eyes not only on him but on Watari, as well. Matsukawa flicked his gaze to the kids from the family across the street, and he promptly wanted to stick his head in the ground at how openly they watched the two teens from their front yard. In lieu of that, he hid his face with one hand while Watari laughed and waved to them. "…I'm an idiot," he grumbled.

"No, you're not. They're curious, that's all."

"Yeah, but I wanted to—" The older boy stopped short. He peeked between his fingers.

Watari turned back to him, not needing Matsukawa to finish his sentence. And, somehow, though he was just as red as Matsukawa, Watari still smiled cheekily at him, a sight only Matsukawa got to see. "I'm glad," the libero said eventually, gently pushing the taller male aside so he could get past.

The older boy ran his hand through his curls halfheartedly before dropping his hand back to his side. Then Matsukawa twisted his lips around after closing the gate, like "Why's that?"

"You still get excited to see me. It's mutual."

Matsukawa was only a step behind him, but the sincerity of Watari's words froze him to the spot, so Watari reached the front door before he got moving again. He couldn't very well tell Watari he was wrong when he wasn't, but he did give the younger boy a pouty glare. Watari laughed in response.

"I thought about stopping home to drop my things off," Watari stated as they entered Matsukawa's room, "but I decided against that."

"Why's that?"

Watari dropped his duffle bag on the floor and pushed it out of the way, beside the dresser on which Matsukawa's gaming system was staged. "Well, not every day's like this, so why not take advantage of it?"

His ears weren't playing tricks on him, but Matsukawa's brain definitely spun a thousand fantasies at that, most of them childish demands, and it was all he could do to nod when Watari double-checked that the bathroom was at the end of the hall and excused himself. Then the jet-haired boy flopped backwards on his bed and brought a pillow up to hide his face, wishing his pulse would stop racing.

Why was it that Watari could act so natural, _feel_ so natural being in Matsukawa's house and room? And the naturalness with which he said such things… Matsukawa was at the point where he no longer knew whether to be happy or to be nervous about the fact.

That transition that wasn't really a transition for him and Watari? Maybe Matsukawa had imagined it, on his part. Watari seemed so relaxed around him now—"settled in," as Matsukawa had teased Iwaizumi and Oikawa only twenty minutes ago.

But Matsukawa, on the other hand, felt the buzz of a pleasant thrum under his skin these days, a sensation that went hand-in-hand with the hyperawareness he now experienced as he thought about how well he'd come to know Watari at this point.

That cheeky smile only he ever saw.

How Watari preferred the sweater vest to the school blazer, evidenced even today, the vest smoothed nicely over his oxford, the top button of his collar undone but his tie barely loose enough to give that away.

Watari's general taste in clothes, his favorite style a mix of active but comfortable, always ready to go with the flow—something that meshed well with the libero in him.

Watari's taste in stationery, from gel pens over ballpoints to notebooks and index cards in subdued colors to sticky notes in hues as bright as Watari himself.

How Watari could eat anything placed in front of him but had a twinkle in his eye when it was something Matsukawa made for him specially.

That Watari didn't really have any qualms with his height, that maybe he'd accepted he wouldn't grow any taller long ago, that maybe he'd acknowledged there were many advantages to being his height…and perhaps spending time staring up at Matsukawa was a prime example of a plus.

…ah, honestly. Matsukawa couldn't calm down like this. Least of all when he'd come so close to kissing the other boy outside a moment ago.

But he was pulled from his spiraling thoughts at the arrival of a heavy warmth on his torso, and he lifted the pillow up enough to see Watari had returned, quiet as a cat, and crossed his arms atop Matsukawa, leaning on him over the edge of the bed. The shaven-haired boy beamed at him.

Matsukawa was glad Watari didn't ask what was wrong, because, the longer he remained in that position, the farther Matsukawa's unsettled feelings flew away.

"Oh, I remembered to bring your books, by the way," the third year said, motioning with his head to his bag.

Matsukawa raised his eyebrows. "Even though you were supposed to have practice, you were still going to come over?"

Watari moved his shoulders slightly, a mediocre shrug with his arms crossed beneath his chin. "Even if only for a quick visit." He laughed at himself. "I really thought I was better with returning borrowed things than I actually am."

Watari could keep Matsukawa's stuff for as long as he liked, as far as the dark-haired boy was concerned. But he thought that might sound odd, so he withheld that comment.

"And next week will probably be pretty busy, with last-minute things to take care of before the Spring High prelims." He tucked a fist under his chin, propping his head up without digging his elbows into Matsukawa's gut. "So, aside from a chance on Sunday, I'll probably only be able to see you briefly Tuesday evening." He smiled, but his tone sounded a tad down.

Matsukawa slid the pillow off his face, tucking it under the arm opposite Watari. "Funny you should say that. It might be more than just me and Hanamaki and Shido coming next week," he elaborated after a pause in which Watari cocked his head to one side.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I spoke with Iwaizumi and Oikawa earlier. I think they miss us," Matsukawa added, snickering at their expense. As rowdy as the Seijou house could be, there was plenty to miss for those who left.

"You realize it'll be different from the Interhigh, Matsukawa-san."

Matsukawa gave him a "Well, duh" look. "You guys will kick ass."

Watari shook his head, smilingly wryly. "Not only that. Something tells me Hanamaki-san will feel like no holds barred this time around, now that more people know and are fine with him and Yahaba. Yahaba might kill him yet, if Hanamaki-san hoots and hollers even worse than last time."

He laughed at that, but the warmth that often pooled in Matsukawa's middle whenever they hung out grew with Watari stretched out on him, and Matsukawa shyly flicked his eyes to his companion. "What if I came and hooted and hollered for _you_?"

Again, Watari laughed, but he scooted up a smidgen so he was properly across Matsukawa's middle, and he playfully patted the older boy's stomach, still hard and flat despite trading in the volleyball for manual labor. "Matsukawa-san, we both know even you wouldn't do that." He raised his eyebrows.

And Matsukawa caved, his cheeks growing warm. "… I could _try_." Though he, too, knew he wasn't into self-abasement, especially the public kind.

Watari beamed at him, and, much as before, Matsukawa had clashing feelings, the desire to kiss that smile beaten down by his shyness. Sadly, the choice was no longer his as Watari sat up, taking his warmth with him as he rearranged his legs and leaned back against the side of the bed. "It's all right." He pulled his knees up to his chest and turned his head to Matsukawa. "It's nice just having you there, you know."

Matsukawa sat up partially, but Watari's words… The former middle blocker knew he'd said some deliberately misleading things to toy with Watari, but it seemed as though his bad behavior had rubbed off on Watari. But, at this point, even taciturn Matsukawa was done with the things left unsaid. Of course, he couldn't find the right words when he needed them, but he reached out and nudged Watari's nearer shoulder with his fingertips.

The libero's eyes flitted to the gesture, and he chuckled at it as he played with Matsukawa's fingers on his shoulder. He tugged each finger lackadaisically before deciding to hook a couple of his with Matsukawa's.

"I remember once telling you it's okay to be selfish on occasion," Matsukawa started, and he sat up the rest of the way, lowering his legs over the bed's edge until his feet were on the floor and Watari could lean against him.

"I know."

"So…this is me being selfish, asking you to be selfish."

Watari eyed him, all wide stare and blinking baby grays. Then that soft, gentle, Watari smile bloomed on his face. "All right, then. I'd like you to come cheer us— _me_ on," he corrected when Matsukawa turned pouty. "I'd like you to come cheer me on, and I want to hang out with you after all of our wins, and I want to do all of this because I like you, Matsukawa-san."

Oh. Hell. "…you didn't have to go _that_ far," the older boy grumbled, sliding off the bed and sinking down beside Watari, who pulled Matsukawa's hand up to lace their fingers now that he had better access.

"Maybe not, but I wanted to say it finally. Indulge me," he added, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter no doubt at how red he'd made his friend.

Matsukawa paused at that. Ah. Yes, they were friends, but there were other words he could use to describe Watari now, weren't there?

"I understand it, though," the shaven-haired boy continued, and Matsukawa indulged him again as Watari leaned to his right and rested his head against Matsukawa's shoulder.

Matsukawa couldn't show Watari his expression without disturbing their current position, so he gave Watari's hand a squeeze instead.

"I understand Morioka's feelings, as well as Yahaba's." He paused with a sigh and didn't continue for a moment, which made Matsukawa antsy, considering he'd just mentioned the girl who'd practically confessed to the third year.

"Don't you think they're a little different?" Matsukawa suggested. Morioka had only had a crush. Yahaba was in love. That was a big difference in Matsukawa's book.

"Not initially. It's… It's being intrigued by someone that's the start of things. Then it's up to the person who's intrigued to decide what'll become of him and the other party."

Matsukawa frowned. "But… _she_ approached _you_."

Watari picked his head up and looked at the older boy's profile until Matsukawa peeked down at him. "She did. And she didn't actively pursue me, so I think she'd made up her mind from the start. As for me, there _was_ no interest on my part, so it was a dead-end." He pulled on Matsukawa's fingers, stretching their arms out, pressed flush together, fingers laced, wrist and elbow and shoulder touching—well, as best they could, considering the size differential.

Matsukawa's frown disappeared slowly the longer their arms remained this way. He marveled at how this was the best of both worlds: them sitting comfortably together as they'd always done, their hands linked in a new, fun meaning. Watari's fingers were darker and shorter and stockier than his were, but there was a softness to them that fit in with Watari's overall soft image. Matsukawa thought again of huddling under the kotatsu with Watari…but he fancied, instead, wrapping himself up in Watari, when the chance came. "I like you, Watari," he breathed, his eyes on their hands as he gripped that other palm and drew their arms back up.

He caught Watari's gape in time, very much like all those other times he'd enjoyed teasing the other boy, with the libero turning magenta from the tip of his nose to the apples of his cheeks to the back of his neck—a color that spread even under his buzz cut, Matsukawa noted with amusement.

Ah, yes. If this was how things were going to be with them—calm and quiet and exciting and surprising and confusing and affectionate and frustrating and loving—then there really was no reason for worries or misgivings. He mused about saying this aloud and putting Watari at ease, but he knew he was also better with actions than with words, so he leaned forward to grab the remote off his table and turned the TV on to something mind-numbing, hugging Watari's arm to him until Watari gave up and nonverbally agreed that, yeah, this was them, and there was no need to get used to something which they were already enjoying like a second skin.

* * *

_**5:47PM** _

"Itchan!"

Mostly through one whole movie later, Matsukawa's eyes glumly went to his door as he heard his sister climbing the stairs. His eyes darted to Watari back on his shoulder, and the smaller boy rubbed the sand from his eyes with a yawn since he'd fallen asleep.

Watari woke up the rest of the way when Kako's footfall thudded on the boards outside Matsukawa's door, and his arm, still trapped in Matsukawa's grasp, tensed—but he didn't go to remove it from the larger boy's reach. He simply gazed up at Matsukawa, his lips pursed, somewhat apprehensive.

Matsukawa dwelled on it for but a second, and then he decided he didn't care if Kako saw or not. There could be other points of contention in his family, about university or his career or whatnot. But he wouldn't let Watari be a problem, and he wanted to make that clear from the outset.

Kako slid his door open after a quick knock, and she halted for maybe a millisecond after her eyes locked on to her little brother and his guest. Her lips curved up just enough for Matsukawa to notice, but she didn't remark about the scene before her. She, like Hanamaki, seemed to view Watari as some cute pet, despite her dislike for cute things, preferring everything to be basic, simple, pragmatic…necessary. So, instead of commenting, she leaned against the doorjamb and turned to Watari. "Hey, Shinji. Mom and Dad will be home before long, so we were thinking of eating early for us. You're welcome to join us," she reminded him.

Well, hell. Matsukawa had killed to avoid such a scenario until now, and his shoulders sank as he shot Watari a desperate glance.

But Watari seemed to be drawing strength from Kako's quiet acceptance, if not approval—almost as if he got the feeling Kako actually saw him as a necessary presence in Matsukawa's life. He touched the index finger of his free hand to his chin, a new, impish gesture Matsukawa had the sinking feeling he'd grow to be familiar with in the future. He rummaged in his pocket for his phone and looked at the time. "I think I will," he said in the end, and he laughed as Matsukawa groaned and Kako cackled good-humoredly.

"Good answer," the woman said, and she turned to her brother. "By the way, Mom said you're responsible for prep tonight, so the kitchen's yours." She waved over her shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom, and they heard her sigh in relief as the showerhead came to life.

Matsukawa grumbled under his breath, taking the hand Watari offered as they got up off the floor. "You're far too cozy here," he scolded the younger boy as they went downstairs.

"Kako-san's been insisting for ages, and I haven't met your parents yet. It was bound to happen sooner or later, so might as well let it happen now." He grinned at the bottom step as he took out his phone again, likely to message his parents that he'd be staying for dinner. "Besides, any time I can eat your cooking is a win. Ah, ow, Mahkawah-shan!" he yelped when Matsukawa pinched his cheek.

With a new task at hand, both were better behaved, and Matsukawa felt more in his element…though he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy having Watari there with him in the kitchen. Whereas before he'd had Watari sit patiently at the two-seater within the kitchen space, watching as Matsukawa did his thing, this time Watari jumped in, a second set of hands for Matsukawa when he needed them.

The kitchen was quiet as they worked, Matsukawa simmering some mushrooms and Watari tossing the red bell peppers he'd cut up with a pinch of salt. Aromas floated around, spreading to the rest of the first floor and heading up to the second, and it was kind of like being in a bubble, just the two of them. As things were finished one by one, the two friends—

Matsukawa hesitated at his inner monologue, turning the skillet down low. It hadn't helped, growing up around people with poor communication and emotive skills, but, if this relationship were to work, Matsukawa would have to lay things out plainly. He furrowed his brow.

"Matsukawa-san," Watari said, holding the bowl with the vegetable mixture, "I finished this part. You're right; it tastes good with just a little sal—"

Of course he was right. Matsukawa appreciated subtle flavors and salty tastes—a mix of which Watari tasted when the taller boy ducked down to peck his lips at last. He straightened up after, raising his eyebrows as he licked his lips. Watari tasted like salted peppers and…something more. Something sweet. Something…Watari.

That was a delicious flavor Matsukawa didn't imagine replicating, but he was all right with that.

"Matsukawa-san…!" Watari mewled, stunned beyond belief for the second time that evening. Good thing the bowl hadn't left the counter, lest they would've had peppers everywhere, and Watari wouldn't have a bowl in which to hide.

But Matsukawa laughed. "Kako _did_ say our parents will be home soon, so…y'know." And he laughed again at the implication that they were running low on alone time.

"Matsukawa- _san_ …!"

* * *

_**7:58PM** _

"They like me."

"…I know."

There was a bounce in Watari's step as they took their time walking to Watari's house, even though Watari had insisted it was rather late for Matsukawa to see him home on foot. In the glow of the streetlights, Watari's eyes glittered. He practically gloated, "They _like me_."

Matsukawa sighed and rolled his eyes, rubbing Watari's head and pushing him playfully as the shorter boy laughed. "Yeah, I know. I was there for that." And he had been, for over an hour. His parents had come home ten minutes after Matsukawa had stolen another quick smooch, and they'd introduced themselves before his mother had taken over in finishing putting the meal together. Watari had carried on smoothly with Matsukawa's father at the dinner table, enlightening Matsukawa's mother as best he could when she chimed in from the kitchen, focusing on memories of Matsukawa and the other alumni in the previous two years at Seijou and highlighting some rather fond anecdotes of kindness from this past summer. Matsukawa had been uneasy when Kako joined them, but her shower and a beer put her in a good mood, and she didn't let anything slip to their parents. Dinner was merely an amicable affair after. And Matsukawa's stoic parents were positively charmed with the libero who'd only been a name to them until then.

"I like them, too," Watari said, his tone and smile content little promises to Matsukawa as he kept up with the taller boy's pace. "I mean, I liked Kako-san before—you two are fun to watch—but…I really like it there."

The dark-haired boy pursed his lips, thinking, too. "…yeah, me, too," he said quietly. Not that he'd never loved his family before, but… There was something about tonight that made home seem more like home to him. Could it have been the enjoyment plain on their faces? Or maybe it was the conversation. Or maybe…

His eyes alighted on his boyfriend, and he leaned on Watari as they turned onto the shaven-haired boy's road.

It was the Watari Effect. Definitely the Watari Effect.

"Goodnight, Matsukawa-san," Watari said, amusement in his voice again as he righted the older boy when they arrived at the Watari nameplate.

Matsukawa nodded. He gave Watari's hand a light squeeze and ducked his head by way of parting. But Watari held on tight when he turned to leave. He lifted on thick eyebrow.

"Um…well…" Watari yanked on his hand, pulling him back to Watari. The shorter teen stared up at him expectantly.

_Oh_. This was a shocker. Matsukawa's eyes widened at the realization of what Watari was demanding, because he wouldn't've pegged Watari as the PDA type in a million years. But the new information made him happy and his heart light and the butterflies in his stomach cheer as he stooped down, meeting an on-tiptoes Watari partway to kiss him again, still sweet and light but much better than the kitchen kisses from before.

Watari grinned against his lips and broke away then. "'Night," he said, heading up to his front door.

Matsukawa waved. "Goodnight," he mumbled long after Watari could no longer hear him. He walked home with a bounce in his step, too.

A good night, indeed.

* * *

_**11:49PM** _

Matsukawa was still up, bathed and ready for bed but reading since he felt only the lightest drowsy touch. His choice of book probably wasn't wise, not when he couldn't think too deeply about the fantasy novella he was reading, despite Ryouzou-san's insistence that the fantasy was only a device to disguise the political implications within. …frankly, this type of book wasn't his norm, but he was giving it a go since Ryouzou-san's suggestions were on the mark more often than not.

Since he was still up, he wasn't disturbed when his phone buzzed with a text, though it wasn't an unusual occurrence. He'd spent many a night—especially Friday nights since graduation—answering dumb messages from Hanamaki and the occasional from Oikawa or Shido on weekend nights, though Hanamaki was the usual culprit. He'd dialed it back, his demands to keep Matsukawa up playing games, now that he'd started working part-time at the sweets shop in the next town over, but Matsukawa expected the occasional bad judgment call from his lazy friend.

But it _wasn't_ Hanamaki. It was Watari:

_-Matsukawa-san? Are you awake?_

So strange. Matsukawa had him pegged as the early-to-bed, early-to-rise type.

_-Yeah._ _(_ _‘_ _◇_ _’_ _)?_

A moment later, he had his explanation:

_-I'm not sleepy yet._

Matsukawa chuckled.

_-Need a lullaby?_ _(_ _´_ _△_ _｀_ _)_ _♪_

Watari's reply was hasty:

_-No! I think I just wanted to chat?_

_-You're asking me?_

A full minute passed.

_-No, I'm not. I_

His finger must've slipped. Matsukawa knew Watari employed proper grammar and punctuation in all his messages.

_-I looked up a few kaomojis myself._

Oh, boy. This should be good.

_-And?_

Watari's reply was so precious, Matsukawa dropped his book. He paused to freak out and make sure the item was all right—the geezer would kill him if he damaged one of his favorites—and then he reread Watari's text twice:

_-_ _ヽ_ _(_ _愛_ _´_ _∀_ _｀愛_ _)_ _ノ_ _♡_

Good gods. Was it bad if Matsukawa thought of him as cute? Did guys call each other cute, even if they were dating? But Matsukawa didn't have a better word for his boyfriend. He decided to avoid the word for now, lest he discover Watari had an irritated-with-being-called-cute side, too.

_-Ditto._ _♥╣_ _[-_-]_ _╠♥_

His response must've been the right one, since Watari was satisfied with that.

_-I think I can sleep now, Matsukawa-san. Goodnight!_ _(*_ _°_ _∀_ _°_ _)=3_

_-Goodnight, Shinji._ _(_ _ღ_ _˘_ _⌣_ _˘_ _ღ_ _)_

He sent the text before he realized what he'd typed, but Watari must've gone to sleep without seeing it, so Matsukawa breathed a momentary sigh of relief. He'd have to wait to find out if that was too soon, but at least Matsukawa could put his book away and recline in bed now, set to dream of the excitement of the morning—another morning, with Watari, just as the mornings and days and evenings and nights after would be.

"Yeah…I'm in deep," Matsukawa whispered to himself, and he turned the lamp by his bed off, a happy smile on his face that remained there even while he dreamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. Just…yes. I wanted to dive in to Mattsun's mindset a little, and the ending juxtaposes Watari's internal commentary at the end of ch10, with him just flat-out admitting to himself that he's in love. That said, I like, too, that neither of them said "love"—they're both new to this and learning, and "like" encompasses all they can grasp right now, but it really is the start of something big for them. -w- Let's see… I wanted everyone to meet Ryouzou-san, since he's someone important to Matsukawa, and the bull terrier finally got a name! I think, in the future, Nobu will appreciate walks more when Matsukawa has Watari tag along, since Nobu really liked meeting Watari back in ch4. XD Makki, tho… I absolutely love Mattsun's friendship with him. Though their class assignments might say otherwise, I think Mattsun has more drive than Makki does, so it was interesting for me to compare the two in this story, both through Watari's and through Mattsun's eyes. And Iwaoi cameo! They say they'll be back for the Spring High prelims, but I think they'll be back more than a month later for the prefectural rep playoffs, too. -w- Mattsun's actual fam is also pretty precious, and I think Mattsun's exposure to Watari is good not only for the quiet giant but also for his family—as Mattsun thought, it's the Watari Effect. ;] And GODS. How innocent can Mattsun be, stealing smoochies like that? XD Though Watari being fine with PDA is a personal headcanon of which I can't seem to let go, but I think it really works for Matsuwata? Gosh. :3c And finally they exchange some fluffy texts! Like, pls. They need to stop being so cute. ;w; They are not good for mew's heart. XD
> 
> So, THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR READING UNTIL THE END! :D Much of this story was written in about a week, but then Matsuwata kept adding layers to the story and I just. By ch5, it was a novella, and now it's actually novel-length. *happy sigh* I have more Matsuwatas in the works, but give me some time to recover from this fluff until then, yeah? ;D
> 
> Some final notes: Since this story was rather long, I ended up with a short, fun playlist for them (two songs I mentioned in my ch10 A/N): "[Love Is](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpA8dEFMYsc)" by Meg and Dia, "[Don't Look Back](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_YJR9-BRyM)" by Télépopmusik, "[In Too Deep](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJwhejGJo7o)" by Raleigh Ritchie, "[Breathe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vyut3GyQtn0)" by Télépopmusik, "[Weird Inside - Just Ask](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EFlJSlcsxWk)" by Oshi, "August" by DeKobe (couldn't find a link, sorry!), and "[One Step](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mKi73yqy33Q)" by Hyolyn and featuring Jay Park. Funny to me how two of those have no vocals, but it fits the quiet feeling of Matsuwata I guess?
> 
> And a BIG, GIGANTIC "THANK YOU!" to my pal, BlueMango, for being my beta reader and editor! There are forever a million things to thank you for, hon, but I truly appreciate you giving my boys and their story some TLC. -3-
> 
> At last, as I like to say…thanks for reading, and please leave a review, unsigned or not! And I hope you try out more Matsuwata and my other HQ! fics if you enjoyed this! Thank you very much, and let's meet again!
> 
> -mew! :D


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